InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Metempsychosis ❯ Gender Wars ( Chapter 24 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"So, who's that guy in the super-secret-stealth-club meeting with Ashur?" Carol asked as she and Jessa wandered along the borders of the estate, leading the horses along.  She'd called Devlin just after they'd picked up Carol from the airport to ask if she could borrow Flicker for a nice, long ride, and did he want to come along.  Unfortunately, he'd told her that he had taken his mother shopping for the day, but that they were welcome to take the horse.  Then he'd called his master of stables so he could get Flicker ready, and then he'd even brought her over for the day . . .

Carol, it seemed, was familiar with basic riding.  She said that one of her neighbors back home had horses, and, as a child, she'd often gone over there to see them.  That neighbor had taught her the basics, and for a casual individual, it was good enough.

It had been a complete and utter surprise to her when they'd gone to the airport after checking out of the hotel.  She'd just figured that they were picking up someone to see him, so when they'd pulled up to the pickup area, she'd nearly shrieked when she spotted Carol.

Jessa shrugged as Stardust bumped her shoulder with his nose, asking for a snack, she supposed, and she dug a bit of carrot out of her hip bag and broke it in half, handing the other half to Carol.  "I have no idea," she admitted.

Carol glanced at her as Flicker ate the carrot out of her hand.  "He looked a little shady . . . Does he always have these weird guys wandering into and out of the house?"

She shook her head.  "No . . . Actually, he's the first one I've seen, other than Mr. Margreave, who's the one that brought Stardust over yesterday . . ."

Carol nodded slowly.  "Okay, then," she allowed.  "As long as he's not in the habit of parading strange men around all the time because that would be a little bizarre, don't you think?"

Jessa bit her lip.  Considering Ashur's job, it wasn't surprising to have people who wanted to meet with him, but she couldn't rightfully explain that to Carol, either, given that Carol was human and, therefore, knew nothing of youkai.

Luckily for her, Carol's mind had already shifted off into another direction entirely.  "Oh, but tell me about that stable guy of yours," she prompted.  "Do you know anything about him?"

"I don't," Jessa admitted.  "I mean, he just arrived yesterday with Stardust.  He's actually in Mr. Margreave's employ.  He's only here to see to Stardust while we keep him for Mr. Margreave . . . But I do know that his name is Laith—Laith McKinna."

Slapping the reins against her thigh absently, Carol nodded.  "Laith?  Hmm, I like that . . ."

Jessa laughed.  "Are you going to go get to know him?"

Carol sighed, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ear.  "Well, I'm here visiting you, so that'd be in pretty poor taste," she said.  "A damn shame, though, if you ask me."

"Hmm, I don't think I'd mind if you wanted to spend a bit of time in the stables," Jessa admitted.  "I mean, he is pretty good-looking . . . Then again, if you're after, 'good-looking', you really need to meet Devlin.  He's prettier than Ashur—maybe."

"Is that even possible?" Carol countered.

Jessa laughed.  "Oh, it's possible . . . I'll have to see what he's doing tomorrow.  Maybe he can join us on a ride . . ."

"Ashur doesn't ride?"

"Uh . . . Not really," she admitted.  "We stopped and rented horses on the way up here to look at properties," she said.  "I told you about that, didn't I?"

"Oh, yeah . . . And he hated it.  I remember . . . That was the first time you kissed him, right?"

She cleared her throat, unable to staunch the color that flowed under her skin. "Oh, uh . . . That . . . Yes, well . . ."

Carol snorted but giggled.  "All right, so spill it.  What exactly is going on with you and Ashur?"

Jessa shrugged, tried to affect a nonchalant air.  "Nothing," she replied.  "I mean, not really . . ."

She could feel Carol's gaze on her, but she didn't turn to look.  "Nothing really?" she repeated.  "You're lying, Jessa . . . I mean, you already kissed the guy a few times, right?  So, truth!"

"There's . . . There's not," she insisted.  "Just because we've kissed doesn't mean anything, and . . ." She grimaced.  "And he's so stuck on my age that I doubt anything will happen."

"No . . . I've seen the way that man looks at you, Jessa.  There's something there.  You just have to convince him that age doesn't matter, that's all."

She snorted and shook her head.  "Easy for you to say," she muttered.  "I'm not good at the whole, 'simpering girl' act.  It'd never work."

Carol considered that for a moment then reached over, giving Jessa's arm a reassuring little squeeze.  "You like him, don't you?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, but it wouldn't do any good.  Carol was nothing if not entirely too perceptive, and besides, maybe having someone else's opinion on the matter would help some . . . "I . . . guess . . ."

"You guess?" she echoed.  "You do, right?  I mean, I don't want to push you to do something if he's just a casual interest to you."

She made a face, lifting a hand in an almost futile sort of gesture.  "Okay, I . . . I do," she admitted, unable to staunch the blush that rose in her cheeks.

Carol laughed.  "Well, you've got excellent taste, Jess, just so you know."

She rubbed her forehead.  "Like I said, though, we've only kissed a few times, and then he reminds me how old I'm not . . ." She sighed.  "Even last night when we rented that room for the dinner cruise . . ."

"What room?  Like, a hotel?"

She nodded.  "But that was kind of my fault.  I mean, I sort of teased him into it—do something fun and all that—and in order to take the dinner cruise, you had to book a room because it was an overnight thing . . ."

"And you guys stayed in the same room?"

Jessa made a face, shifting her lips to the side as she shrugged.  "Yes."

"And . . .?"

"And we watched a movie, then fell asleep."

Carol sighed.  "Seriously?  Wow . . ."

"I . . . I don't know how to . . . to quirk his interest," she admitted quietly, almost angrily, as she scowled at the path below her feet.  It was the God's honest truth, though.  She'd never given it much thought before, never really considered it.  Somehow, all those men she'd met at the parties and the dinners hadn't done a thing to make any kind of impression on her, one way or another.  It was an odd thing, really, something she hadn't really bothered to ponder until now.  What was it about Ashur that made him so different?  She really wasn't sure . . . "I've never tried before . . ."

Carol laughed.  "No, I'd guess you haven't had to," she murmured.  She seemed to be considering Jessa's dilemma.  "What were you doing before when he kissed you?  Do you remember anything specific?  I mean, if he kissed you spontaneously before, then I'd say just do whatever it was that sparked his interest the first time."

Jessa made a face.  "The first time, I don't know.  The second, I was coming out of the bathroom after my shower . . . in a towel . . ."

Carol barked out a guffaw of laughter.  "Well, that would do it, then!" she agreed.  "Just run around in a towel, and—"

"Carol!" she grumbled.

"Okay, okay!" Carol relented, despite the very wide smile still on her face.  "It really shouldn't be that hard, Jessa.  I mean, look at you . . ."

She snorted.  "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Now, now," Carol said.  "Nothing bad, you know.  It's just that you're . . . well, you're gorgeous!  Just flirt with him . . . Touch him when you're near him.  Make sure you always make eye contact . . . Maybe we should make a recording of your voice and stick it under his pillow, so when he's sleeping—"

"Be serious!" Jessa laughed.

Carol giggled, too.  "Okay," she agreed.  "Seriously, though, it's not that difficult.  All you have to do is to make sure that he sees you all the time—really sees you—sees you as a woman and not as a little girl."

"Sees me as a woman," Jessa echoed thoughtfully.  "I . . . I think I can do that . . ."


Stepping out of the house onto the terrace as he breathed deep, savoring the freshness in the air, Ashur closed his eyes, let the crisp breeze soothe him.  After having spent the bulk of the afternoon since they'd arrived home, closed in his office with one of the stuffiest youkai he'd ever met—worse than many of Hidekea's associates on their best days, actually, who wanted nothing more than to ramble on and on about the good old days, ad nauseam.

The old loon, Heath Dreyfuss had offered to hold a ball to welcome Canada's newest general, which wasn't exactly something that had interested Ashur—until Dreyfuss had gone on to explain that it might be a good way to get all those introductions out of the way in one fell swoop.  As it stood, he'd said he'd consider it, though he really wasn't at all sure that it was something he wanted to do, either.  Drawing that much public attention to himself?  No, he wasn't entirely certain that it was a good idea, at all . . .

It only took one of the dissidents that had sought to align themselves with Hidekea against Sesshoumaru to see him, and they'd know exactly who he was, and, while he wasn't afraid of them, he'd like to keep his anonymity, too, and Jessa . . . Well, he didn't know for certain whether or not that Kingston guy still harbored thoughts of getting Jessa to marry his son, but something like a ball would most certainly draw a little more attention, potentially on a global scale, than either of them really needed . . .

'Speaking of Jessa . . .'

His youkai-voice snorted.  'Check the pool, Kyouhei.'

Shifting his gaze over toward the pool, Ashur stopped, blinked, stared when he spotted Jessa and Carol, standing on the pavement near the pool in their swimsuits and doing what appeared to be yoga . . . 'Good God . . .'

His youkai heaved a sigh as the red-headed girl, on her hands and knees on the bright yellow mat, arched her back up, held it, then let it down—all in that damned black bikini . . . 'Understatement of the year.'

'I need to destroy that thing . . . Buy her one of those old-fashioned ones that looks like full-body-armor. . .'

'There aren't any old bathing suits that look like full-body-armor, and even if there were, no.'

Carol looked up from her yoga pose—whatever it was—and stood up.  "Ashur!" she called, running over to intercept him in her hot pink bikini that was vying for the title of skimpiest swimsuit against Jessa's.  "Just the man I wanted to see!"

Little alarm bells started clanging in his head, but against his better judgment, he slowly nodded instead of turning on his heel and walking away.  "Why?"

She laughed.  Sure, she was cute in a very American girl kind of way.  In fact, he might well have given her a second or third look if he hadn't met Jessa.  Too bad the Irish girl was entirely too striking . . . and too bewitching to credit . . . "Jessa and I were wondering if it'd be okay to borrow your car."

"Borrow my car?  Can she even drive?"

Carol rolled her eyes.  "I don't know; she didn't say.  I, however, am a fully licensed driver with a perfect driving record."

He snorted.  "You're also from New York City where most people don't have cars."

She didn't refute his logic.  "Anyway, how 'bout it?"

"And just why do you want to borrow it?  What are you plotting?"

Carol laughed again.  "You're so suspicious!  Why is that?"

"Answer the question."

She heaved a sigh.  "Laith was telling us about this really fantastic dance club, and he offered to take us there, but he doesn't have a car—just that truck, and it’s not exactly ready-to-go—since you're just borrowing him, and we need a way to get there."

Ashur frowned.  "Who's Laith?"

Carol stared at him for a long moment.  "You don't know who's in your stable?"

"Oh, him . . . You're going to a dance club with him?"  He chuckled.  "Yeah, no, you're not."

"We're not?"

Ashur rolled his eyes.  "Well, you can, but Jessa can't."

"What do you mean, she can't?"

"I would think that what I said was pretty straightforward," he replied.  "She's not going to a pub with some guy she barely knows.  No."

"She'll be with me," Carol argued.

He shook his head.  "Aren't you the same one who thought it would be a good idea for her to work in a strip club?"

"You'd have a valid point if she had stripped, which she never did, so your argument doesn't hold up, sorry."  She sighed when he arched and eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.  "Well, then, you could come along if it would make you feel better."  She mirrored his stance, affected an exaggerated scowl.  "Does it bother you that much?"

"Does what bother me?"

She shrugged and smiled, but her smile greatly resembled that of Disney's version of the Cheshire Cat.  "That Jessa wants to go dancing?"

He snorted.  "I don't know what you're talking about, she-devil."

Carol's grin widened.  "Does it bother you that she wants to go dancing, or that she might end up dancing with a man that isn't you. . .?"

He wasn't impressed with her suggestions.

Carol heaved a longsuffering sigh, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she leveled a deadly serious look at him.  "You know, Ashur, she might listen if you told her that you didn't want her to dance with some random guy—especially if you told her why you don't want her to."

"And why don't I want her to?"

"Tell me you're not attracted to her," she challenged quietly.

"Is that really any of your business?" he parried.

She shrugged again.  "She's my friend, so . . . yeah, it is."

Ashur stared at her for a long moment before turning on his heel to head back into the house.

"So, about the car?" she called after him.

He gritted his teeth, but didn't stop walking.  "Be ready in an hour or forget it," he tossed over his shoulder.  On one level, he was somewhat glad that Jessa had a friend who wanted to be that protective of her.  On the other?

'Look on the bright side.  It's just dancing.  I mean, how bad could it possibly be?'

He didn't trust himself to answer that.  Somehow, he just couldn't quite shake the feeling that the entire situation had 'disaster' written all over it.

In all capital letters.  In bold print.