InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Metempsychosis ❯ Lost Things ( Chapter 73 )

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

Jessa awoke with a wide yawn and a sleepy smile as a very warm body burrowed between Ashur and her.  She didn't know when Kells had crawled into bed with them, but she couldn't complain about it, either, though she did snag the duvet with her toes and tugged it up far enough so that she could grab it with her fingers to drag it up over them all, careful to avoid waking Ashur.

For once, the lad hadn't bothered to strip off his pajamas when he crawled into bed, and for a moment, she considered, getting up long enough to find a tee-shirt or something.  But the sun wasn't up yet, and she was entirely too comfortable to bother . . .

'It's not such a big deal, is it?  And I daresay that Kells is entirely too cozy for him not to notice if you got up.'

'Oh, you . . . And suppose you tell me why you've been so hushed lately?  Did you know that Ashur's our mate?'

Her youkai laughed.  'Well, I did think as much, yes, but you weren't interested in listening, now were you?  You were having entirely too much fun, convincing yourself that he couldn’t possibly be, so who am I to ruin your pity party?'

'And you call me a bitch . . .'

'Aye, but you're a sweet little bitch when you've a mind to be.'

Jessa snorted and snuggled down into her pillow again, opting to ignore the irritating voice since it was very obviously not interested in helping her in the least . . .

Kells wiggled around, sticking his butt up in the air, smashing his face down into the pillows a little deeper.  Jessa giggled.

Ashur sighed and opened his eyes, pinning Jessa with a very sleepy look over Kells' head.  "Between him kicking me and you laughing, I'm never going to get to sleep in again, am I?" he asked ruefully despite the heightened brightness in his gaze.

With another giggle, Jessa rolled off the bed and grabbed her robe before scooping up a still-sleepy Kells.  "Come on, lad," she said, kissing his cheek.  "Let's go find some breakfast.  Then we'll go for a quick ride and let your da sleep in."

"Okay," Kells muttered, rubbing his eyes as he huddled against her shoulder.

"Feel free to sleep in, Ashur," she told him with a wink.  Then she slipped out of the room with Kells.

"Mommy?"

The sound of that word on those lips was enough to bring a fresh wash of tears to Jessa's eyes as she moved down the hallway and toward the stairs.  "Hmm?" she intoned as she held him just a little closer.

Kells sighed happily.  "We can have a, 'Mommy-Kells Day' today?  Just us?"

She laughed a little unsteadily.  "We can do whatever you'd like, Kells."

He leaned away, his tiny hand reaching up to brush a tear off her cheek as he tucked his claws under so that he wouldn't scratch her, his bottom lip jutting out as his little brow furrowed with obvious concern.  "Why you cryin', Mommy?"

And the, 'Mommy' brought on a few more tears as she laughed and kissed his cheek.  "You make me happy," she told him.

"An' you cry when you're happy?"

She nodded.  "Sometimes."

He pondered that for a moment before throwing his little arms around her neck.  "Because you're really happy?"

She barked out a terse laugh, followed in short order by a sniffle.  "Yes, I am," she assured him.

He sighed.  "Me, too."

She'd gotten her emotions back under control by the time she stepped into the kitchen.  Nora looked up from the sausages she was frying to smile at them.  "Good morning, my lambs.  Will it be pancakes for you, Master Kells?"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed as Jessa set him on his feet so that he could scurry over to see just what Nora was doing.  "Can I help?"

"Why, you certainly can," she told him.  "Would you like to help me squeeze oranges?"

Kells nodded as he tugged his stool over next to Nora.

"And will your mate be joining you for breakfast?" the housekeeper asked.

"He'll be sleeping in this morning," Jessa replied with a secretive little smile.

"You . . . are the one I've waited centuries to find.  You're the one who makes me smile, makes me laugh . . . the one I . . . I love . . ."

"Mommy, can we take our picture together?" Kells asked as he tried his best to smash the orange halves down on the juicer top.

She laughed. "You want to go into the city and get our picture taken?"

Kells nodded happily.

"Can Daddy come, too?" Ashur drawled, shuffling into the kitchen and still looking entirely and adorably sleepy, though he had managed to pull on a robe.  He smiled at Nora and squeezed her shoulder in passing before ruffling Kells' hair and helping him squeeze the last bit of juice from the orange half.

"I can do it, Daddy!" Kells insisted, shoving at his father with his shoulder.  "An' it's just a Mommy-Kells Day!  No Daddy!"

Ashur chuckled and let go of the child in favor of wandering around the counter to kiss Jessa instead.  "If it's just Mommy and Kells, then it won't be a real family picture," he said, wrapping his arms around Jessa, leaning down just enough to rub his cheek against hers.  "Don't you want a real family picture, Kells?"

He looked genuinely troubled by this.  On the one hand, he did want that picture.  On the other?  He really seemed to want the, 'Just-Mommy-Kells Day', too . . .

"If you want me in the pictures, Kells, I could meet you two later since I have some things to take care of anyway . . . Then again, if you want real pictures, I'll call and book an appointment with someone, but it probably won't be today," Ashur offered.

Kells thought it over, tapping his orange-pulpy-fingers against his chin.  "Then we can go have our Mommy-Kells-Day and do pictures later?"

Ashur chuckled.  "You could go pick out clothes for the photos," he suggested.

Jessa laughed.  "Could I?" she countered.

He smiled.  "You can do whatever you want, Jessa."

She kissed his cheek, and he tightened his hold on her for a long moment before letting her go and pulling out a chair for her.  "Will you miss me today?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her as he sat down in the chair next to hers.

"I . . . might," she allowed.  "What's so important that you've got to get done today?"

He shrugged.  "A few things . . . Nothing interesting, really, but he seems pretty excited to have you all to himself today, so . . ."

"So, you're bowing out gracefully?"

"Something like that," he replied.

Jessa smiled as she stood up to grab the coffee.  No doubt about it, it was going to be a good day . . .


Slamming the phone receiver down into the cradle with a vicious growl of abject frustration, Carl Kingston shot to his feet, stalking across the length of the chamber, the heels of the Birham-Magoshe wing-tip Oxfords thudding heavily against the travertine floor.  "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" he hissed.

A light throat-clearing drew his attention, and Carl shot his butler a very scathing glower that the aged rat-youkai summarily ignored.  "Pardon, Your Grace, but there's a gentleman here to see you.  A Master Cartwright says he has information that he will only share with you."

"Master Cartwright?" he repeated with a scoff.  "Never heard of him.  Send him away."

The butler sighed.  "Your Grace, he says it has to do with . . . the girl . . ."

"Is that so?"  Turning away from him, Carl moved over to the wetbar, took his time, pouring absinthe into a Tarragona absinthe glass before settling the sterling silver slotted spoon over it.  "Allow him to stew over it a little while," he commanded, carefully settling a sugar cube in the spoon and letting the tongs fall to the countertop with a dull clatter before reaching for the pitcher of water.  "Then you may show him in."

It was nothing but luck, wasn't it?  The very day that MacDonnough called to tell him that he'd lost track of the girl in question, and here was a stranger with information on her whereabouts?  But . . .

Watching as the slow trickle of water filtered over the sugar cube and through the slotted spoon, Carl very nearly smiled.

In fact, he'd just settled into his desk chair once more, glass in hand as he idly stared at the clear liquid, when the curt but quiet knock came upon the door.  The butler swung it open and made a low bow before stepping back to allow Master Cartwright to step inside.  Then he closed the door without comment as Carl narrowed his gaze, as he slowly lifted the glass to his lips.

"Y-Your Grace," the man stammered, giving a quick bow in deference to Carl's superior station.  "I'm sorry for intruding in your home, and I'm grateful—"

"Let's skip the groveling, Master Cartwright," Carl demanded, teeth grinding at the harsh enunciations of the obvious American, setting the glass aside as he waved at a chair.  "Whatever news you think you have, just say it."

The man nodded slowly, sliding into the chair that Carl had indicated, and for the reluctant calm that he was trying to pass off, Carl could feel the man's unsteady nerves.  "Well, it's just, um . . . I have a friend who was at a party awhile back—the Zelig Foundation Gala—and she said that . . . that there was a girl there, introduced as Lady Jessamyn O'Shea . . ."

"She attended a gala.  Is that what you're saying?" Carl demanded, mostly because he was already well aware of that, and it wasn't entirely surprising, given that she was supposed to be staying with her cousin in New York City . . . Even though that bit of information couldn't actually be verified since the cousin in question never seemed to be home for more than a day or two at a time of late, either.

Master Cartwright flinched slightly, hands tightening and loosening on the arms of the antique chair.  "My friend said that she seemed . . . a little friendly with a man there—Zelig's new Canadian general, actually.  Umm, Philips?  Ashur Philips . . . Ben Philips' younger brother, I hear."

"How close?" Carl demanded.

"Well, my friend said that it . . . It was well known that the two went into one of the private rooms and, uh . . . h-had relations . . ."

"Is that right?"

Grimacing when the ink pen in Carl's hand snapped in half, the man nodded quickly.  "He lives in Quebec City," he went on in a rush.  "I don't know where, but—"

Carl dropped the ruined pen into the trash can.  "That will be all, Master Cartwright."

"Y-Your Grace," he hurried to say as he hastily stood up, "I . . . I thought that, since I made a special trip, just to tell you . . . I thought . . ."

Carl stood slowly, drawing himself up to his full height as he peered at the upstart with enough brass to demand compensation for the paltry bit of information he was able to give.  "Letting you walk out of here alive should be more than enough for the likes of you," he said.  "But, given that I'm feeling generous today?"

Reaching down to pop open the side drawer, Carl dug a couple stacks of cash out of it and tossed it across the desk.  "Now, forget that you came here," he stated as he snapped the drawer closed once more.  It secured itself with a soft beep.  "I trust you know the way out."

The man took the money and made a quick bow before hurrying out of the office and closing the door in his wake.

Only then, did Carl slip back into his chair once more, reaching for the glass of absinthe that he had set aside.  It would all come together, surely . . . His patience was indeed paying off, and in the end?

He smiled to himself.  In the end, they'd all see—they'd all witness as he stepped forward to lay claim to a world that would be so very different from the mockery that existed now . . .


Ashur glanced at his watch as he shuffled through the taller grass of the field behind the house.  It was almost six-thirty, and Jessa and Kells had been out all day since Nora had packed up a nice picnic lunch for them just after they'd returned home from shopping for clothes for family pictures.  Kells had picked out a few outfits, and Jessa had gotten a couple thicker fall sweaters.  It seemed like she was always a little cold, probably because she was fire, and therefore, had a low tolerance for cold.  They'd also picked out a few not-white shirts for him, which would be a little weird, given that the last time he'd worn anything of real, actual color, it was traditional Japanese garb . . .

Which, he supposed, might well have been the reason why he'd opted to outfit himself in nothing usually but basic white and black, for the most part . . .

They'd sent him pictures throughout the course of the day, and Kells had been over the moon to show him the strips of photos that they'd done in the small kiosk in one of the shopping centers in the city: lots of them, hugging, smiling, some of them making faces and generally being silly . . . All in all, he'd figured that it was a good opportunity for the two of them to bond even more, and Jessa, he'd noticed, had been nothing but smiles, all day, and that, in his estimation, was well worth the sacrifice of having them out of his sight for a few hours.

Even so, the sun was starting to set, and, while he really didn't want to call a halt to Mommy-Kells Day, he supposed that some things couldn't be avoided, especially when Nora had stepped into the office long enough to ask if she ought to keep dinner warm for them.  He'd smiled and told her that he'd go find them.  Sure, he could have just called or texted Jessa, but then, he rather liked the idea of seeing what they were up to.  At last picture text, she'd said that they'd found something interesting, but she didn't say what, and he couldn't tell from the attached picture, just what it was, either.

They were close; he could feel them.  Frowning slightly as another presence interrupted his perception, he hurried forward just a little faster as the vague outline of Jessa appeared not too far ahead.  She was walking with Kells beside her, and they both seemed calm enough, but Devlin was with them, and he arched an eyebrow that they couldn't see since the sun was behind him.  "I thought it was Mommy-Kells Day," he said in lieu of a greeting as he neared them.  "What's he doing here?  He's neither Mommy nor is he Kells . . ."

Devlin chuckled a little wanly, but there was something slightly off about his slightly staggered gait.  "Sorry, they called me," he said.  "They found an injured lynx and her cub . . ."

"His name is Puff-Puff," Kells exclaimed happily, holding up a smallish ball of very pale fur—fur so pale that it almost looked white, but Ashur couldn't be sure, given the falling darkness.

"His mother is albino, too," Jessa explained, shaking her head a little sadly.  "Probably why she was attacked . . ."

Kells looked sad, too, as he cuddled the kitten against his chest.  "Dev tried to save his mommy," he went on, "but he said she was hurt too bad."

Devlin sighed and winced apologetically.  "She was almost dead when I got here," he explained.  "I mean, I tried . . ." He flinched and made a face as he dragged a slightly shaking hand through his spiky hair.  "Maybe too hard, actually . . ."

"We . . . We couldn't just leave him, Ashur," Jessa said quietly.  "I thought . . . I thought that if you don't want to try to keep him, maybe there's a zoo or something . . .?"

"Can we keep him, Daddy?  He needs us!" Kells begged, turning those bright blue eyes on him, bottom lip quivering, and even in the dusk, he could smell the scent of fresh tears.  "I can talk to him!  He says he'll be good!"

"Entirely unfair," Ashur muttered, shaking his head.  "Does he really?" he asked, only half-believing the tiny tyrant.

Kells nodded emphatically.  "I'll keep him in my room!  He'll be good; I promise!"

Ashur snorted.  "I don't need your promise, Kells—I need his."

Kells held up the kitten, looked him in the eye, uttered a few small half-growly noises before cuddling him against his chest once more.  "He promises, Daddy!" Kells insisted.

Ashur slowly shook his head, a part of him not really believing that he was about to allow Kells to keep a lynx—for a little while, anyway.  "For now," he agreed.  "When he gets older, though, we may not be able to.  He's a wild animal, you know."

Kells giggled happily.  "He's hungry, Daddy!  He wants milk!"

Ashur ruffled the boy's hair.  "Oh, does he?  Well, I don't know if he can have cow's milk.  We'll look it up when we get home."

"He is probably old enough to feed some raw meat," Devlin remarked.  "I'm going to head home, Irish.  Call if you need anything—maybe tomorrow . . ."

"Are you okay to make it home alone?" Jessa asked.  "I could drive you . . ."

Devlin waved off her concern with a wan smile.  "I'll be fine," he told her.

She watched as he veered off from them and trudged away with a heavy sigh, concern furrowing her brow as she bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest.

"He'll be fine," Ashur assured her, stepping over to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

Kells sighed, too. "Daddy, I'm tired," he said.

"But you're carrying Puff-Puff," he reminded him.  "You want me to carry both of you?  What if Puff-Puff scratches me?"

Kells looked properly thoughtful about the situation.  "He'll be good, Daddy . . . He promised!"

Ashur chuckled.  "All right," he allowed, scooping up Kells.  The lynx just stared up at him, and Ashur couldn't quite decide if the small animal was trying to decide if he could trust him or how he might taste with a bit of salt . . .

Jessa fell into step beside him.  "There wasn't any sign of any other babies," she remarked.  "We looked around, but . . ."

"It's possible she only had the one," he said, taking Jessa's hand in his.  "Can't say that's not a bad thing, though.  More than one, and I'd be crazy for letting him keep them . . ."

"Is it against the law?"

Ashur shrugged.  "I'll look it up," he promised her.  "It wouldn't be a consideration if he couldn’t talk to him."

"Did you make an appointment with a photographer?"

"I did," he agreed.  "She was booked solid for the next few days, but she said if we were willing, she'd be happy to come over on Saturday to do them."

"You . . . You're okay with it?" she asked, almost reluctantly.

He chuckled.  "Why wouldn't I be?"

She let out a deep breath, like she hadn't actually been sure, at all.  "I . . . I wasn't sure if it was too . . . too sudden or anything . . ."

"I'm looking forward to it," he lied, mostly because he wasn't keen on the idea of posing for photos, but, given how excited Kells was about the whole thing, he was willing to do it.  After all, it wasn't every day that the boy finally got a mommy, now, was it?

They walked in silence for awhile.  He could feel the slight shivering coming from Jessa and unconsciously quickened the pace a little.  It was warm enough during the day with the sun out, but as the sun disappeared on the horizon, the temperature was dropping fast—easily a good ten degrees since he'd left the house to find them.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"If Jessa's my mommy now, does that mean I gets a brudder now, too?"

Ashur very nearly tripped.  "Uh . . ."

Jessa giggled.

He sighed.  "We'll . . . We'll talk about that, uh, later," he hedged.

Jessa giggled more.  "He wants to see me all fat and round," she murmured, sounding entirely amused by the whole idea.

"Yeah, well, that would be pretty damn cute," he remarked.  "Oh, and Ms. Thomas called.  It seems that the parents of the children who were picking on Kells would like to come by with their sons to apologize properly.  I said that would be fine—and I'd like to talk to them, anyway . . . She also wanted to extend their heartfelt and very sincere apology from the preschool and said that they'd love to have Kells come back if he wants—her words, not mine."

Jessa uttered a terse little 'hrmph' at that.  "I can check on other preschools," she offered.  "I don't like the idea of him going back there . . ."

"There are others," he allowed, "but that is the only one that serves strictly the youkai and hanyou population.  They also help them to learn how to channel and control their abilities, which was why I thought it'd be a good idea . . ."

She sighed, obviously still not agreeing.  "If you think it's best . . ." she muttered.

"I didn't say that.  I just thought that we can see what happens when the parents bring their boys over.  If it's not okay, then we can look elsewhere.  I'm not going to send him back if he really doesn't want to go."

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"I can tell them I gots a mommy now!" Kells said.  "An' I can show 'em Puff-Puff—an' I can make Puff-Puff attack if they're mean again!"

Ashur coughed, thankful that it was dark enough for Kells not to see his slight amusement.  "Well, you can't do that, but let's see how it goes."

Kells cuddled the lynx kitten closer and leaned his head against Ashur's shoulder.

Jessa sighed.
"You okay?"

She blinked and turned her head to peer up at him as the neared the veranda.  "Yes," she said, sounding anything but okay.

"What is it?" he pressed.

She sighed and shrugged, letting go of his hand to rub her arms through her sweater.  "Today would have been Da's birthday," she murmured.  "I wish . . . I wish you could see it—I wish we could go there . . . Dunborough . . ."

Holding the door open for her, he frowned.  "We could go there," he mused.  "I could try talking to MacDickbag, see if he'd be willing to relinquish your estate since we're mated.  I mean, I don't need it anyway, so I have no issue in signing it over to you, if that's what it takes to get him to release the hold on it . . ."

"Ashur!"

He blinked innocently.  "Was it something I said?"

She rolled her eyes.  "Should you be saying things like that around . . .?" Trailing off, she nodded toward Kells.

He chuckled.  "He's heard worse, I promise you."

Jessa sighed, and she didn't look very pleased by his backhanded 'reassurance', either.  "Do you . . .? Do you think that would work?  Like . . . Like you said before, if he'd at least left a will . . ."

"Your da?  He had a will," Nora remarked, looking up from the Dutch oven she was setting on the top of the stove.

Jessa blinked and turned to stare at the housekeeper.  "He did?"

Nora nodded.  "It'd be a bit stupid of him not to, wouldn't it?  Of course, he did . . . I think there ought to be a copy of it in the family vault."

"The family vault . . ." Jess repeated thoughtfully.

"Aye, at Dunborough . . . Oh, my . . . And just what have you brought home, Master Kells?"

Kells giggled as Ashur set him on his feet, and he ran over to show off Puff-Puff.

Jessa slowly turned to face Ashur, a questioning expression on her pretty face.  "Do you . . .?  Do you think . . .?"

He shrugged.  "If he did, then not even the tai-youkai can do a thing about it."

She didn't say anything as she stared at him, but the cautious light in her gaze said it all, and he chuckled.  "I'll call after dinner and make the arrangements."

"Thank you," she said, leaning up to kiss him.

He slipped his arms around her and sighed.  "Whatever you want, Jessa.  Whatever you want."