InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Vivication ❯ Separation ( Chapter 63 )

“A hunter?” Fai repeated.  “Do you have experience?”

Taine shrugged, slipping over, filling a glass with vodka without bothering to ask if it was all right.  “Officially, no, but I assure you, my skills are many and varied.  Besides, I hear that you’re in need of hunters here.”

Ignoring the very deliberate slight as he watched the would-be hunter, slowly, casually, lean against the bar as he tipped the glass to his full lips still without removing the sucker, Fai shook his head.  “Where are you from?  I might have guessed Australia, but that’s not quite right, is it?  New Zealand?”

He smiled, and this time, it actually looked genuine.  “Damn, it’s the accent, right?  Yes, I’m from Auckland.”

Fai nodded slowly.  “Then you’re from Jude Covington’s jurisdiction.  Why not ask him for a job?”

Dragging a long-fingered hand through his crazy red hair, he shrugged.  “He’s got more than enough hunters,” Taine remarked in a rather off the cuff kind of way.  “That aside, I just happened to be here in the country, and I heard about your lack of hunters . . . I figured it would benefit the both of us.”

“Who did you hear that from?”

Taine gave a rather offhanded shrug.  “Maxim Korinovich.  He hired me to gather some intel on a couple of the warring factions up in his regency—the Bershetoyev and the Kyranyovitch tribes.”

Fai frowned, recalling his own run-in with the Bershetoyevs just after he’d met Saori.  “He hasn’t mentioned trouble with them,” he pointed out.

“There wasn’t trouble, exactly.  Maxim said that he’d heard rumors that they were rather subtly upping their little war.  Something about one of the Bershetoyevs being shot earlier this year?  But, from the information I gathered, you might already have some knowledge about that, Your Grace?”

Fai nodded.  “I guess I do,” he allowed mildly before leaning back in his chair, narrowing his gaze thoughtfully on the man, who either didn’t notice or wasn’t concerned that he was being scrutinized.  Easy grace, that’s what he possessed—the kind of almost aristocratic kind of elegance that one either possessed or never would, and even if one was born with that, it was a rare trait . . . “So, Maxim would give you a good reference if I were to call him?”

Taine shrugged again.  “I’m not really at liberty to make that kind of assumption,” he concluded.  “I would say that my work for him was satisfactory, but I was not the employer, so . . .”

“Izanagi . . . That’s not a New Zealand last name,” Fai went on thoughtfully.

“To hear my mother tell it, she is originally from Japan,” Taine said.  “Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all . . . I just wondered.

Taine nodded slowly.  “Curious?  I get that.”

Fai nodded, too, continuing to size up the fellow.  Something about him . . . It wasn’t that Fai distrusted him, per se, but he also couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something that Taine was leaving out.  Of course, it didn’t matter, really, as long as he was able to do the job he was after—and as long as he wasn’t there to try to undermine Fai, and that wasn’t the feeling, anyway.  No, it was simply the feeling that there was more to Taine’s reasoning than he had said thus far . . . “You had no interest in asking Toga Inutaisho for a job?”

Taine shrugged.  “He has more than enough very capable hunters at his disposal, too, doesn’t he?  I doubt he’d have a use for me.”

Still, there was something about the man that struck Fai as strange, off . . . Something . . . But . . .

“I don’t have a formal resume, per se, but I’m more than willing to spar with you, if that would convince you of my abilities,” he went on, oblivious to the conflicted thoughts that were running rampant in Fai’s head.

Fai slowly shook his head.  “Have you ever killed anyone before?  That is to say, it’s not an easy thing to reconcile.”

Scratching his chin, Taine nodded.  “Not . . . in a long time.”

Fai was listening—sort of.  Suddenly, though, his eyes flared then narrowed.  “You barely have a scent,” he blurted.  “Why?”

Taine blinked then shrugged with a calculated nonchalance.  “Easier to do my job, wouldn’t you say?”

“You don’t have a job yet,” Fai reminded him.

Taine chuckled.  “Fair enough . . . Ragwort.”

“Ragwort?”

“It’s a plant—pretty hard to come by unless you know where to find it.  If you steep the leaves and drink the extract, it alters your scent for a time,” he explained.  “It’s a fairly arduous process, but my mother is pretty good at doing it.”

“I see . . .” Fai allowed at length.  “Look, Taine . . . While it’s true that we are in need of hunters, you tell me you have no real experience or anything else to recommend you but some vague mention of various skills and talents?  That’s really . . .”

Taine chuckled.  It was more of a friendly kind of sound.  “I tell you what.  Do you have anything you need done right now?  Send me out on a job.  If I accomplish it, you hire me.  If I don’t?  Well, then you won’t be out a thing, given that I’ll be dead, right?”

Fai frowned.  It was one thing to be sure of oneself, but Taine’s attitude bordered upon almost reckless . . . Either he really was as good as he claimed or . . . “I have a report regarding an elk-youkai in Siberia who killed a number of humans a few years ago near Moscow.  We know he did it, but we don’t know—or really care—why.  Five children, all under the age of ten, a woman—three of the children were hers, and the other two were her nieces . . . They were at a zoo, and, according to eye witnesses, he walked up to them and—they say—he detonated some kind of homemade bomb.  Now, we know it was an energy attack, but . . . Anyway, I’ll send you after him.  You take him down and report back.  If it’s beyond your capability, though, don’t endanger yourself.  If you manage to silence him, then we’ll discuss the terms of your employment.”

“Fair enough,” Taine allowed, finally popping the lollipop out of his mouth—well, the stick, anyway—that he slipped into his pocket.  “Do you have a file on him?”

Fai stared at him for a long minute before pulling the small kit out of his desk drawer and handing it over.  “Everything’s there, including the official hunt order, along with a prepaid card that should be enough to pay for your travel expenses, along with lodging for your stay . . . The cell phone is prepaid, as well.  My number’s programmed in already, so if you run into trouble, contact me immediately.”

Unzipping the black leather bag, Taine looked through the things inside and nodded.  “I’ll take care of it,” he said, stowing the bag into the rather dilapidated, brown leather rucksack he’d carried in.  “Anything else?  Am I to call you as soon as the target’s silenced, then?”

“Standard protocol,” Fai replied.

The dog-youkai nodded again, but suddenly, the rather blank expression on his face took on a slight frown as he dropped the rucksack onto the sofa once more, crossing his arms over his chest as he stepped forward, eyes trained on the small photo that Saori had framed and set in the corner.  It was a picture from their wedding day—her with him, along with her parents and brother and Yerik.  Taine didn’t touch it, but he did narrow his gaze on it.  “Your mate,” he ventured, his tone, strange, almost brusque.  “And the silver-haired ones?  Those are her family?”

Fai gave one terse nod, unsure why the sudden interest in Saori or her kin, but something about the man’s demeanor . . . It was odd—not necessarily menacing, just . . . odd . . . “Her mother and her brother—the silver haired ones, anyway,” Fai allowed.

A tight little smile quirked the corners of Taine’s lips despite the heightened darkness in his gaze.  “They are related to Sesshoumaru, then . . . That one . . . He looks just like him . . .”

“She’s his granddaughter,” Fai replied.  “Do you have an issue with that?”

“No, of course not,” Taine said, turning away from the desk.  “I just didn’t realize that you held such close ties to that family.”

“Why?  Do you know them?”

“I . . . I know . . . of them,” he said.  “I’ve never met them, though . . .”

Fai frowned as he settled back in his chair.  “If you have a problem with my mate’s family, perhaps you ought to go look elsewhere for work.”

Taine slowly lifted his gaze, stared at Fai for a long moment.  Then, he shrugged.  “I don’t,” he replied.  “I was just . . . caught off guard; that’s all.”

Considering that slowly, deliberately, Fai crossed his arms over his chest.  “Do you have something against them?”

Taine lifted his eyes but didn’t move his head.  “No, I don’t,” he said.  “I’ve always wondered about them.  That’s all.”

“Wondered?”

He nodded.  “It’s quite the dynasty, don’t you think?”

“Meaning?”

Tongue darting out, slowly licking his lips, as though he were considering his answer, he suddenly chuckled.  “Nothing, really.  Just . . . thinking out loud, I guess.”

Narrowing his eyes, Fai shook his head.  “You have to understand, and I have to ask.  You’re not a threat to my mate, are you?”

He looked surprised for a moment.  “A threat?  God, no . . . No, not at all.”

“And I can trust in that answer?”

He sighed.  “Given that you don’t know me?  Probably not.  However, I think you will come to find over time that I am a man of my word.”

For some reason, Fai wasn’t entirely satisfied with his answer, but he kept that to himself.  It wasn’t really his place to question it further, and as long as the man had no ulterior motives when it came to Saori, then he could keep his mysteries as long as it didn’t interfere with his ability to do his job as a hunter.  Besides, if it came down to it, Fai . . . Well, he was more than capable of protecting Saori from anyone and anything, even Taine Izanagi . . .

“Hello? ”

“Evgeni . . . We need to talk.”

Scowling at the strange sense of near-panic in Vladimir Gostoyev’s voice, Evgeni shot his mate a tight smile as he stood up and excused himself from the small, intimate table in the cozy bistro.  “I’ll be back,” he told her before turning on his heel and walking away.  “What is it?” he demanded as he stepped outside, his voice lowered but no less effective.

The banker sighed.  “His Grace called,” he said, wasting no time in blurting out the facts.  “He wanted to know why he never got the information about the second account—the tai-youkai account.”

“What did you tell him?”

“What do you think?  I told him what I knew, of course . . . I had to.  It’s my job.”

Narrowing his gaze as he glowered at no one in particular, Evgeni ground his teeth together.  “You told him that you gave the information to me,” he hissed.

“I . . . Yes.”

“Did he say anything else?”

The banker let out another deep breath.  “No . . . No, he didn’t, but . . . But he didn’t sound surprised.  In fact, he asked me directly about your involvement.”

“So, he knew . . .” Evgeni muttered, more to himself than to Vladimir.  Clicking the ‘end’ button to sever the connection, he only considered it for a second before dialing another number.  He wasn’t stupid enough not to realize what it all meant, after all . . .

“Feodosiv,” the man greeted, the heavy dose of boredom in his tone, entirely expected, even if it did grate on Evgeni’s nerves.

“Your Grace,” he replied as smoothly as he could.  “I won’t take up much of your time.  I trust your visit to Russia went well.”

“As well as ever,” Ian MacDonnough replied, sounding even more droll by the moment.  “I’m a busy man.  What do you want?”

Bristling at the European tai-youkai’s brusque attitude, the Russian tamped down his irritation and struggled to retain a civil and almost personable tone of voice.  “It seems that I may be in need of a haven of sorts,” he said.  “Can I count on you, Your Grace?”

Ian grunted.  “Sloppy, aren’t you, Evgeni?  If memory serves, I told you then that keeping the tai-youkai account a secret would only work for so long, and you were the one who insisted that it was long enough, weren’t you?”

“It wouldn’t have taken much longer,” Evgeni countered.  “Even so, the damage has already been done, and—”

“And you’re a fool,” Ian cut in coldly.  “Now that he’s taken her as his mate, there isn’t much you’ll be able to do.  Working from the shadows won’t avail you much.”

“He’s taken . . .? During the summit, you mean?”

“Just before I arrived.  It would seem that I was too late for the wedding.”  He chuckled nastily.  “Are you saying you didn’t know?”

“Thank you,” Evgeni bit out, ending the connection as a livid growl issued from him.  A couple, walking past on the sidewalk, turned and gave him a rather alarmed kind of look.   He ignored it, grinding his teeth together as the reality of the situation sank in.

Fai had mated that woman . . .?

Talking himself out of trouble might well take some doing, but that woman?

Tightening his fist hard enough that his claws dug into the palm of his hand, Evgeni stuffed the cell phone into his pocket.  That one . . . She really could ruin everything, couldn’t she?  Simply by existing, she could . . . Taking a mate?  It was the last thing that Evgeni could afford.  After all, if he should decide to produce an heir, then everything would just be that much more difficult, and Evgeni’s patience was already wearing thin . . .

He’d been so close, hadn’t he?  If that idiot, Konstantin Korinovich would have just done what he should have, then this would all be over now . . .  ‘Damn that bear . . .’

A sudden thought occurred to him, though, and he narrowed his gaze as he let it take form in his head.  Maybe . . . Maybe he could turn it into something he could use.  Mates . . . Mates could be exploited, couldn’t they?  And what better than a young and untried little girl . . .?

Pulling the phone from his pocket once more, Evgeni searched the contacts till he found the one he wanted.

“What do you want?”

Evgeni ignored the surliness in Taras Stepanovich’s tone.  “I need you to do something for me.”

Taras grunted.  “It’ll cost you.”

“It always does,” Evgeni replied.  “I need you to locate Saori Senkuro.  I want you to find her and to bring her to me.”

“Who’s she?”

Evgeni chuckled, but the sound was entirely devoid of humor.  “She’s the tai-youkai’s mate—his wife.”

“Is that right?”

“Find her, Taras.”

Taras sighed.  “You know how to pick your jobs, Evgeni.  All right.  I’ll be in touch.”

The connection ended, and Evgeni’s humorless smile widened.  If he got rid of her, then Fai would fall, too . . .

It was, after all, the law of mates, wasn’t it . . .?

“I miss you.”

Letting out a deep breath as he let his gaze rake over Saori’s forced bright smile, he tried to return the sentiment but couldn’t quite manage it.  “I miss you, too,” he told her, hating the separation of the video feed.  “Rinji said you were sleeping earlier.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “I was, but I’d have rather been talking to you,” she told him.  “Is Yerik-kun back yet?”

“No, but he did call.  Seems that the man I sent him to see was transferred to a maximum-security psych hospital in Moscow, and they won’t let anyone in without official clearance.”

“You can’t get him that?”

He made a face.  “I probably could, if I pulled some strings.  I’m not entirely sure that the lead is worth the effort, though.”  Rubbing his forehead, he shrugged.  “It’s only his tale . . . If there had been others, even just rumors . . .”

She shook her head, hooked her hair behind her ear as she rolled over onto her stomach on the big and very comfortable-looking bed.  “I’ll feel better when Yerik-kun gets back . . . I hate the idea that you’re alone . . .”

“I’m not entirely alone,” he reminded her, “and I’m fully capable of watching out for myself.”

“I know,” she told him.  “That doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

He chuckled.  He supposed that he really couldn’t fault her for that.  “It’s just for a little while,” he told her.  “As long as you’re safe . . .”

“I’m staying with ojii-chan, so I doubt there’s anywhere safer,” she told him.

He nodded.  “I know . . . I suppose your whole family has moved in for the duration?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual, ebullient expression.  “Well, nii-chan has . . . sort of . . .”

“Good . . . I’m glad . . .” Fai replied, wincing inwardly since that was a bald-faced lie.  To be honest, the idea that he was leaving her protection to anyone else . . . It bothered him—a lot.

She sighed.  “I don’t sleep very well here,” she admitted quietly.  “I wake up all the time, and I don’t remember my dreams, but they’re . . . they’re scary . . .”

“Scary?  Because you miss me . . .”

She nodded.  “I . . . I hate this . . .”

“I know,” he told her softly, gently.  “I . . . I do, too . . . but you . . . You must be safe, Saori.  You have to be . . .”

She yawned, blinking quickly to stave back tears that rose to fill her eyes with the effort.  “Sorry,” she said, biting her lip, gnawing on it as she sighed and reached out, her fingertips seeming to brush against something, but from the vantage point of the camera, he couldn’t see what.

“Is your screen dirty?” he asked, raising an eyebrow despite the little smile that quirked his lips.

She shook her head.  “No . . . I’m touching your face,” she said, her eyes suspiciously bright.

His smile faltered as a stabbing kind of pain hit him, square in the chest.  Suddenly, the space between them seemed to open up, just a little bit more, and he winced.  “Saori . . .”

She frowned.  “Fai?  Do you . . .?” With a wince, she quickly shook her head.

“What is it?”

She tried to smile.  It looked a lot more like a grimace.  “It . . . It’s nothing . . .”

“If it makes you look like that, it’s not nothing,” he told her.  “Tell me?”

She sighed.  “It’s just . . . If . . . If you’re working, don’t worry about it.  I just thought maybe . . . I mean . . . Would you . . .? Could you . . . just stay on the phone till I fall asleep . . .?”

A fierce ache erupted behind his eyes, and without another word, he stood abruptly, yanking his phone out of the docking station.  It took a few moments for the video feed to transfer over to the device as he strode out of the office and down the hallway, heading for the stairs.

“Fai?”

“Sorry,” he said, holding the phone up so that she could see his face again.  “Close your eyes, Saori.  I . . . I won’t hang up.”

She smiled wanly as she lay down, her face touched by the warmth of the lamplight.  “You won’t?”

“No,” he told her, the pad of his thumb, rubbing over the screen where her cheek appeared, wishing that it was more than just a smooth and cool bit of glass under his fingers.  He missed her terribly, horribly . . . More than he’d ever thought that he could miss another person, ever . . . After this was all said and done, he was never, ever going to allow them to be separated, not like this, never, ever again . . . “I . . . I won’t . . .”