InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Daimyo's Lover ❯ Daimyo's Lover 06 ( Chapter 6 )

Daimyo's Lover 06

 

 

The beautiful white dog yawned mightily then rested his chin on his paws. He was magnificently bored. Izayoi giggled at the sight and offered him another tidbit from her bowl. "Come on," she coaxed, her eyes twinkling. "Just one more little bite?"

 

Inutaisho sighed and wondered if all human girls were so persistent. He really needed to leave, but had resigned himself to waiting until after she fell asleep. Far from being frightened, Izayoi had regaled her household with the story of her dramatic rescue and escape from the bandits. He could tell the young woman was genuinely sad for the loss of her traveling companions, but she would not stop telling her family and retainers over and over about his attack on their murderers.

 

He winced a bit as the girl went into graphic details. This was getting to be embarrassing.

 

"The dog came out of nowhere, Ryunei," she said, turning to her older brother as if she hadn't just repeated the same thing five times over. Luckily, Ryunei was so relieved that his little sister had been spared a horrific fate he was willing to listen and nod for her benefit.

 

"I told Father that four guards weren't enough," the young man said. "I heard there'd been raiding down that old road and I pleaded with him to send for extra men, but he didn't listen."

 

Inutaisho had heard it all before and was heartily bored with it. The lord's son seemed to be a very quiet young man, soft spoken and reserved. Ryunei smiled and touched his sister's hand. "I should have gone with you, Izayoi. I asked Father for his leave but he wouldn't allow it."

 

The girl sighed and pushed her half-eaten dinner towards Inutaisho. He sniffed the air, hoping she'd left him a bit more of the succulent stew. For human food, it was very tasty. There were highborn demons in his court that would be rolling over in sheer horror if they knew what their lord and general were doing.

 

The Daimyo of the West sitting with humans to eat? The scandal, the shame! Eating foods prepared in an unsanitary human kitchen, taking bites of meat from the fingers of a human girl? Inu grinned and licked the bowl clean, rather enjoying this respite from being powerful and terrible. It wasn't such a bad thing to be just a dog.

 

An old woman came into the room, bringing a tray of sweets. She knelt carefully, obviously in some discomfort from her old bones. Inutaisho watched her closely.

 

Demons didn't age like humans, not at all. He could count on keeping his youthful appearance and vigor for many years. And he was daiyoukai, it could very well take centuries for him to feel the passage of time or show signs of it. Even then it would show as just a slight slowing, a winding down more than true aging as his youki waned.

 

Not all demons could expect such an unnatural lifespan, but that was why daiyoukai was rare. It was just as well, with their long life spans and violent natures; youkai would have wiped humans from the earth if they were able to propagate as quickly.

 

That was part of the reason he was careful to keep an eye on his patrols when they went anywhere near humans. It was an easy thing to charm a mortal, far too easy for a good-looking inuyoukai warrior who knew the right things to say. He did not approve of his men preying on humans for sex or anything else.

 

Inutaisho remembered all too well the contempt and cruelty his brother had suffered for his human blood. Of course, humans weren't much better about it. He couldn't blame them really when a half demon child would be viewed as a source of shame for the girl's family.

 

Their customs differed too much, he decided, resting his chin on his paws again.

 

The elderly nurse was now combing the young girl's hair, smiling as she did so. "Tell me again of your rescue, my lady." Izayoi beamed at her and Ryunei groaned. She ignored her brother and launched into another bloody rendition of the event, eagerly describing the way he'd torn someone's throat out.

 

And she looks like such a sweet girl, he thought sarcastically. He honestly hadn't realized she was conscious enough to have seen what had happened. In hindsight, it would have served him to be more circumspect and maybe just run them off instead. It puzzled him that she seemed to have no recollection of Ari's or Izitaki's presence. You would have thought a rescue by inuyoukai soldiers would have been far more interesting than just a vicious dog.

 

On the other hand, she'd been terrified for her life and more, having seen her people slain before her eyes. Maybe it was just her way of dealing with the brutality of what she'd witnessed. He honestly didn't know enough about human psyche to guess and wondered when exactly he'd be able to make his own escape.

 

"I think that's enough for one night, daughter."

 

Inutaisho glanced over his furry shoulder at the human who had entered the room. Tall and stern, Izayoi and Ryunei's father stood in the doorway. Ryunei immediately stood, bowing respectfully to his father.

 

"My lord," the boy said politely. "Sister was just finishing telling me about her rescue."

 

He watched as the man came over to his daughter and affectionately touched the girl's shoulder. "And very lucky we are to have her still with us, it must have been the gods themselves who sent her rescuer."

 

If he'd had a bare face they would have seen him blush. Gods indeed, he wondered if the human would say the same should he find out it was a demon sitting in his home. Probably have the priests come and bless the floor or something, he thought smugly. Inutaisho lay quietly in front of the man, regarding him soberly with remote golden eyes.

 

Izayoi smiled brightly, also standing to bow with respect to her father. "My lord father," she said, her eyes twinkling. "This wonderful dog saved my life, I ask your permission to keep him."

 

Keep me? Inutaisho was aghast at the very idea. She thinks to keep me as her pet? He didn't know why he was surprised by the girl's request; humans seemed to think all creatures belonged to them. They tore up the landscape and hunted the wild beasts of the forest without any regard to the seasons, treating the earth itself as something to be used and discarded. The idea that she thought she was going to own him offended Inutaisho deeply and he let out an annoyed huff.

 

Ryunei noticed, smiling as he came over to kneel next to the dog. "I don't know that you can keep a dog such as this, sister," he said in his mild, soft voice. "An animal like this should belong only to itself, answer to no human voice."

 

Well said, young human, the demon lord thought in approval.

 

She pouted, folding her arms over her chest. "But I want to keep him!"

 

Her brother shook his head. "Sister, you do not have to the right to claim him like that. We should be grateful to this dog for saving your life, but would you really keep him against his will?"

 

As if she could, Inutaisho thought with a grin.

 

"Ryunei," the girl's father said disapprovingly. "Your sister wishes to keep this dog and has my permission to do so. Enough nonsense about the dog belonging to himself. An animal does not have a will of its own to consider and will be happy to be well taken care of by my huntsmen." He looked reflectively at the huge animal that regarded him so impassively with strange golden eyes.

 

"However, I can't take a chance of him crossing with the hunting dogs I've spent many years breeding. Ryunei, you may take him to the kennel and instruct the hunt master to have him gelded first thing in the morning."

 

Inutaisho let out a startled yip and sat straight up. Over my dead body, he growled low in his throat, his eyes shimmering with sudden anger. It was definitely time for him to leave these savages, he was beginning to regret the moment of mercy he'd experienced when he'd decided to save the child from the hands of bandits.

 

"No!" Izayoi burst out, flinging herself next to her brother and wrapping both arms around Inu's neck. "Father, I want him to stay here with me, I don't want him to stay in the kennels. He's mine."

 

"Izayoi," her father said disapprovingly. "It is not proper for a young lady to share her rooms with a beast."

 

"He protected me," the girl said, standing and facing her father fearlessly. Spirited little wench, Inutaisho thought, watching as the girl confronted her father. She was quite obviously used to having her own way and as willful as any young she-demon he'd ever met. Surprisingly, he found her defiance rather endearing.

 

Izayoi took a deep breath. The dog had saved her life; she didn't even want to think about what almost happened. She wasn't an idiot; she knew exactly what those bandits would have done to her. And the dog had stopped them; she wanted him treated like royalty.

 

Her father was right, it wasn't proper for a young lady of her station to keep a large wild dog in her own rooms. Maybe a pampered toy of a dog would have been excused, but not a huge canine that had devoured several well-armed bandits. It was time to be convincing, she knew her father well enough to understand how to make him change his heart.

 

"Please, father," she said again, going to him and looking contrite. "I'm sorry if I sounded disrespectful, but I'm still very frightened by the attack. It would make me feel safe to have this dog stay with me, at least for tonight. You didn't see those bandits, father. You didn't see them murder old Edo and your guards. I would be dead myself now if this wonderful animal hadn't been there to save me."

 

It would have taken a sterner man than himself to refuse such a request, Inutaisho thought wryly. It was amusing how quickly the girl had changed tactics. The father's face softened, heeding his daughter's pleas.

 

"Very well, daughter," he said at last, smiling at her fondly. "Tonight you may keep your pet in your rooms, but I will not have him causing problems in the household. He is your responsibility for now."

 

Izayoi breathed a sigh of relief when her father left and met her brother's amused smile. Dropping down next to him, she started to pet the dog's silky white ears. The beautiful animal stretched lazily until he placed his massive head in her lap, sighing in contentment as she continued to massage his ears. Ryunei laughed as the long feathery tail started to swish in delicious abandon, sending silky white strands into the air to coat his sister's hands and face.

 

"See, " she said smiling. "He likes me."

 

"I guess he does," Ryunei said. "I wish I had your ability to make Father fold whenever I wanted, he's much stricter with me."

 

"You're his son and heir," his sister answered promptly. "He has to be strict with you, I'm just a silly girl, remember?"

 

Ryunei stroked the dog's back, there was certainly enough of it for both of them to pet. "Not just a silly girl, Iza-chan," he said soberly. "You're almost a woman now, ready to be married. While you were visiting our cousins, another messenger came from lord Kanisha."

 

The girl's hands stilled and Inutaisho opened one eye to look up at her. Her pretty face was drawn and serious, a darkness in her eyes that he'd not seen before. She swallowed hard. "And what did lord Kanisha say?"

 

The brother wound long white hair around his fingers, letting the silky strands slip around his hands as he continued to pet the dog. "He wants to marry you, Iza-chan. Ever since he saw you last summer, he's been hinting to Father about it. I fear Father doesn't have much choice. A powerful man like Kanisha won't take no for an answer."

 

"I don't want to marry Kanisha," she said, her hands tightening on the dog's fur. The animal let out a small whine of protest and she let go. "How can our father even consider giving me to him?"

 

Ryunei sighed and stood up. He reached down for his sister's arm and pulled her up. If she'd been younger, he would have hugged her to comfort her the way he had when they were children. Now he just squeezed her hand tightly in his.

 

"Kanisha has an army, over two-hundred strong men. We have less than fifty here to defend our estate. If he wanted to, he could just ride in here and take you. I suppose we should be grateful that he's decided to offer our father his 'protection' in exchange for your hand."

 

"It's not me he wants," the girl said savagely, breaking away from her brother's hold. "He wants a blood tie to the emperor, he wants to increase his status in the eyes of the Imperial court. Without that, he's just another powerful bandit that takes whatever he wants. And we're just caught in the middle. He wouldn't give a damn about us if our mother hadn't been a cousin of the imperial family."

 

Ryunei smiled crookedly. "Maybe. Maybe not, you've become a very beautiful woman, sister. He might want you for that alone. I'm as sick about this as you are, I had hoped you'd marry Takemaru."

 

She laughed. "That's because he's your best friend. Takemaru still thinks of me as a little girl with a runny nose, following you and him around for hours and begging you to teach me how to fight like a real soldier."

 

Her brother grinned. "You were a very annoying little brat, Iza-chan, but that's not how Takemaru sees you now. I already told him to stop sighing over you when he comes to visit. He's been doing that for at least a year, don't tell me you didn't know."

 

Izayoi looked unhappy. "I knew," she confessed. Inutaisho looked up at her, surprised by the sadness in her voice. "And Takemaru would have been a good husband, I would have been lucky to marry a kind man like that."

 

"Sister," Ryunei said quietly. "Takemaru's father isn't powerful enough to help us, he's already refused our father's request. So have all of our other family and allies. Father's worried himself sick in trying to keep this from happening."

 

A bitter smile crossed the girl's face. "So when is my wedding, brother? I should be preparing myself to go to my new husband."

 

He sighed and reached out to clumsily hug his sister's shoulders. Unhappy with the circumstances, neither of them had any choice. "Father has managed to put him off until spring, I think Kanisha would have it be sooner but he realizes that there's no way to force the issue unless he wants to bring his army through the mountains in winter."

 

"Half a year then," Izayoi murmured. Her eyes fell on her new dog, sitting so quietly and watchfully. There was an unusual intelligence in those golden eyes, she thought, smiling as she reached over to stroke the silky head. Slowly, the animal got to his feet and went to the girl, bumping her with his head in a doggish gesture of sympathy.

 

"I swear he understands what we're talking about," she said, her fingers lifting the regal face.

 

He understood all right and felt sorry for the girl and her brother. Pity at least, it really meant nothing to him if the girl was to be married to a man she didn't like. She was far from the first; such things were common among both humans and youkai. With a twinge he remembered Seshiko's fury at being forced into their alliance, her bitter anger at being made the property of a man not of her choosing.

 

This spoiled little human didn't know how bad things could really be; at least she would be protecting her family by entering into such a contract. He decided to wait until she fell asleep before leaving, if his presence really comforted her, what kind of a selfish dog would he be not to offer that much?

 

"My lady, your hair is filthy," the old nurse Masani said. "Let me wash it for you."

 

"If you insist," Izayoi sighed, getting up from the floor where she was still petting her new dog. Masani liked to fuss and she was too kind hearted to deny her nurse. Her hair was filthy too and it stank of old blood. She hadn't noticed before, but now in the quiet calm of her own rooms, the reek was appalling.

 

She'd been dozing in the cart, half asleep from the boredom of their journey. As it was she counted herself lucky that her father had allowed her to go visit their cousins. Their isolated location kept the estate from much of the conflicts that seemed to rage across the countryside.

 

She wasn't supposed to know about that, her father insisted that it was not a maiden's duty to be concerned with bandits or the politics of the region. He wanted her to proficient in music; articulate enough to please a wealthy lord when she married, artistic in her flower arranging and deft with her embroidery skills. She was all of this, a dutiful daughter as well, rarely challenging her father's will or contradicting him.

 

Kanisha wasn't reputed to be kind, or the sort of man who would see his wife as anything other than the mother of his heirs. Izayoi scowled, watching as Masani readied her bath. A pair of servants had brought the big wooden tub to sit in the middle of her room, near the warming fire and now brought heated water, carefully carried in thick earthenware jugs to pour for her bath.

 

Masani hummed tunelessly to herself, pouring in sweet scented oils for her mistress. Izayoi didn't particularly like the scented bath, but she was wise not to argue with Masani's choices. The nurse was growing quite daft in her old age, Izayoi thought fondly. Still, she'd cared for her lovingly since her birth had taken her own mother's life.

 

Izayoi wondered what it would have been like to know her mother, she was said to have been a kind and gentle woman. Ryunei spoke fondly of her still, remembering that she liked to play with her young son. Her brother was actually almost ten years older than herself; their mother had a difficult time with pregnancy and many miscarriages between her two children.

 

She wasn't supposed to know the details of that either, her father thinking such subjects improper for a well bred young maiden such as herself. She shuddered, thinking that ignorance might not be such a bad thing.

 

She'd seen Kanisha, he was not an ugly man, or too old. He'd come to meet her father once last summer, mainly to see if their small estate had anything of value that he might demand as a tribute. He'd seen only one thing he wanted. Herself.

 

Her father held no lands, kept no armies, but he was wealthy. Only he was no longer interested in politics or the affairs of other lords. He instead kept his solitude and now found himself cornered by a powerful warlord, one that didn't care so much for his wealth as his connections.

 

A wealthy lord bound to him by marriage, a wife who was related to the imperial line. Kanisha was ambitious, she didn't think for a moment he had become so intensely interested in her just because he found her pretty. Still, his eyes had rested on her so briefly, and she'd thought his gaze too familiar, too hot, too focused for her comfort. She'd retreated with her maid and thought no more of it.

 

What a fool she'd been.

 

"Your bath is ready, my lady," Masani said in her dry soft voice. Izayoi sighed and started to undress.

 

Inutaisho was dozing, his eyes closed and small snores issuing from his nose. He'd decided to rest a few minutes to pass the time more quickly. As soon as the girl fell asleep he was going to leave. A small garden with a high wall was just outside her room, that way he would be more assured of attracting no attention to himself.

 

The last thing he needed was an irate princess ordering her father's vassals to pursue him into the forest.

 

A soft splashing sound drew his attention and he sat up sleepily, his mouth splitting wide in a yawn. Lit only by the firelight, she was standing nude over the steaming water as her old nurse helped her into the tub. The nurse poured water over the girl's head as she slowly sank to her knees, the water catching the light and outlining every curve.

 

A large drop glistened teasingly at the tip of one dark nipple and Inu rumbled deep in his chest with appreciation. He padded quietly over to the tub to get a better look. A doggish grin broke over his furry face and he decided to stop thinking of her as a child. Her body said she was a woman after all.

 

A wet cloth suddenly slapped him in the face and he yelped in surprise.

 

"Masani!"

 

An offended sniff. "That dog was giving you a most indecent look, my lady!"

 

Izayoi's pure laugh rang out, delighted. "Masani, you are so silly. He's a dog, not a lecherous spy!"

 

He slunk away with his tail tucked firmly between his legs and laid down, facing away from the young woman and her surprisingly astute nurse. Lecherous dog, he thought, annoyed with himself for ogling her.

 

As if to punctuate his mental reprove, a sharp pain suddenly tweaked his backside, just above where his tail met his backbone. A second hard pinch and his ears shot back in a feral annoyance. Something was biting him, he realized with supreme irritation. The sensation made his skin shiver on his bones and Inutaisho sat up with a soft growl and bit hard at his rear. Damn fleas!

 

He must have caught them off the humans; there was no other explanation. It was a grave insult for a dog demon to carry a parasite like that. Angrily, he gnawed himself, quite absorbed in the sensation of itch and scratch. He could feel the flea moving away from his searching teeth. Of all the indignities he'd suffered this day, this was the most insufferable!

 

He was so involved in taking care of this personal insult that he never heard the soft footfalls behind him. He didn't hear the girl get out of her bath; he didn't hear the old nurse's whispers. So he was completely caught off his guard when two sets of feminine hands, one old and one young, latched onto his shoulders. He stopped biting at himself and stared up into Izayoi's smiling face.

 

"I've had my bath," the girl said with a smile. “Looks like you need one of your own."

 

Bath?

 

He was half dragged, half bullied across the room and unceremoniously shoved into the waiting water. He could have probably resisted better, but he'd hate to use physical force against a human girl and her elderly nursemaid. There was no hope for it, no option for escape left to him.

 

The dog sighed heavily, sitting still and letting the females scrub him and trying to keep a positive outlook on his circumstances. The strong scent of jasmine filled his nose and Inutaisho sneezed, water dripping down his muzzle. His dignity was about as tattered as he could imagine it and he prayed silently that Izitaki never caught wind of this.

 

How the great Inutaisho, feared and terrible youkai lord, infamous Daimyo of the Western territories, commander of the demon army and wielder of the famed Tessaiga, had received a scented bath at the hands of human women.

 

oOo

 

I was breathing hard; I couldn't get my emotions under control. I wouldn't let myself cry, but right now I sure felt like it. I'd managed to escape the fortress, I think he let me go, laughing no doubt. That bastard, I thought clenching my teeth as I ran. Why was he such a monster, why was he so twisted?

 

Why did it seem like every day I became more like him?

 

The thought made me sick as I ran, heedless of the dark moonless sky overhead. I didn't need light to know where I was going; he didn't bother to send anyone after me. He knew that running away was my way of dealing with what he'd made me do, just as he knew I'd be back for more abuse.

 

Inoki wasn't allowed to leave the fortress when I ran off like this. My little brother would be under guard, it was my father's way of making sure that I remembered who was in charge. If I chose to stay away, after a while, Inoki would start to pay. Maybe he thought if we left the fortress together we'd get the idea not to return.

 

Get the idea, hell! It was my favorite daydream. And completely impossible. We'd be hunted down and the gods themselves didn't want to know what he'd do to punish us. No, I went no farther than my favorite summer haunt, the lake on the Sutakasi estate. This was the place where we liked to swim in the hot months of summer, playing in the water for hours until our skin wrinkled.

 

I wasn't heading for the lake right now; I was going to the old shrine on the far side of it. Tucked up against the forest, it was hardly more than an old stone ruin, half the roof caved in and crumbling. But it was a fortress for Inoki and me when we played there, pretending to be mighty lords and driving off all invaders.

 

That was well before I got put into training and found out there was nothing fun about invaders. My brother and Anuki spent more time together after that and I was jealous, thinking how unfair that it was they were still allowed to be children. I said I was jealous of that, but the truth was that I loved every minute of my training, brutal as it usually was.

 

I didn't tell Inoki half of what they did to me, my father's best men, each having honed a particular combat technique or weapon into an art form. I'll say this about the sadistic old bastard, he was thorough. By the time I was ten I knew how to kill with my bare claws, by the time I was thirteen I did it on a regular basis.

 

Now I wince when I think about the helpless victims of my 'practice' and how my sparring partners had seemed so scared of me.

 

I had been innocent, not realizing at the time that the captured demons given to my teachers had no choice. Their bodies became my canvas as I learned my art. The prisoners were dead already as they would have been executed eventually.

 

At the time I'd thought it was normal. This must the way all young warriors were trained. My father's men had taught me to be cruel in battle, barking out that when the real thing came my way, I'd damned well better not hesitate by wanting to show mercy. And I'd obeyed because I didn't have any choice and I told myself that this would make me stronger.

 

When my claws finally found my father's throat for the last time, believe me, I wouldn't hesitate.

 

Today had started out normally enough, training with a sword. It was my favorite; I had an absolute fascination with steel. I wanted to know everything about it, how the swords were forged, how they were honed and balanced. The perfection of a shining katana was my obsession, nothing would do but for me to learn everything about how to handle the blades.

 

My father encouraged this grim obsession in his own way. He hired a master sensei of swordplay, Hamako, to be my teacher.

 

If I've never said it before, I will say it now. Hamako was the finest teacher I've ever known. He had been brought the fortress to teach a raw young demon something about handling a sword with grace; he stayed with me for the rest of his life. Even my father treated him with respect, which astonished me but I think it had more to do with the man's abilities than any change of character for my father.

 

From Hamako I learned things about foreign lands as he was widely traveled. Even though he no longer fought in battles, being old even when I met him, his mind was sharp as the steel he wielded like an artist. He talked to me of so much more than just swords; he talked of philosophy, of history and tactics.

 

And I drank it in like a thirsty child, believing him when he told me that I lived on a very small island and that there were lands far beyond its borders and youkai of such variety I'd never seen. It was from Hamako that I learned to think beyond my own territory and even that ideas of mercy and compassion shouldn't be foreign notions to demons such as us.

 

I was practicing hard that afternoon, the sun beating down on my bare shoulders. The training patterns I used were more of my own design now; I wanted to know everything about how to use a blade. Hamako sat placidly on the ground in the center of my practice.

 

I would have been exceedingly sloppy to behead my sensei with a misplaced stroke and Hamako declared he'd rather die than suffer the embarrassment of a clumsy student like me. I danced in a circle around him, my blade sometimes coming within inches of his skin, but Hamako never flinched or looked worried. He calmly corrected each tiny variation from form, calling my attention to the slightest mistake in my footwork.

 

Perfection was expected and nothing less would be tolerated.

 

As I finished my practice, I became aware of him watching. A chill went up my backbone and I wondered how long he'd been there. It didn't matter; I completed my work and bowed respectfully to my master. Hamako looked up at me with a serious expression.

 

"You are getting better all the time, young Inutaisho. I have no doubt that someday you will surpass even my skills."

 

"Sensei," I murmured, slipping the training blade back in its sheath. I had to do it. I went over to him and looked at the ground. "Father."

 

"He's right," the monster murmured. "You are skilled. I wonder if your self discipline matches such skill."

 

Now what the hell was that supposed to mean? I risked a glance up and flinched away. Gods, he just looked right through me and suddenly I was four again and watching him torment my mother. Self discipline, the fact I didn't attack him every time I saw him was some hellish self-discipline.

 

My father smiled, sensing my hatred and walked around me. One sharp claw traced my shoulder, down my spine to my waist. Don't touch me, I thought, holding myself still with an effort. Hamako was silent behind me and I flushed with the shame of what he must think.

 

A father should not look at his son like this. It was evil and wrong.

 

"Follow me, boy," he said in a cold voice, walking away and into a darkened doorway. I had no choice, follow him or something heinous would happen to someone. I walked a few steps behind him, lost in visions of killing him now. Would it work, could I be fast enough, strong enough. Were my claws ready to tear his heart out and dance on it? I was young, I knew that, and he was expecting it.

 

"You think to take my place," he said at last, not looking back. "Are you ready, Inutaisho? You're still too young to take me, you're fast but I'm still stronger."

 

Try me, I thought.

 

"And there's more to commanding a territory than you know," he hissed. "You don't have the slightest idea how to control men, bend them to your will. In that regard you're still weak like that worthless brother of yours. Full of pity and mercy for the weak, it makes me sick that you both came from my seed."

 

We're not exactly thrilled with you either, father, I thought, grinning a bit.

 

He must have felt it, heard something in my breathing because he suddenly whirled around and slammed me into a wall. Yes, he was still considerably stronger than me. In an open fight, he would have no problem tearing me to pieces and he knew it. So I just stood passively, wondering if he was going to beat the snot out of me for just thinking about it.

 

"Have I offended you, father?"

 

He snorted, amused at my proud tone. "Not at all, dear son. Everyday I become more proud of you. It makes a father glad to see his son following in his footsteps."

 

Maybe my self-discipline was cracking, because I shouldn't have said what I did. "I'll never be like you, you're a depraved excuse for a youkai."

 

His grin widened, those black eyes like flames bored into me with merciless intent. "And you're my son in every way, no matter how hard you fight it, I'm part of you."

 

I shoved him but he pinned me hard into the wall. "Today I'm going to let you make a decision, my son. You will choose for me if I should spare a man's life."

 

His hand came up to caress my cheek and I flinched away. He saw my disgust and it amused him, excited him. Wasn't it enough that the entire territory knew about his sick obsession with me? Wasn't that enough to live with, that and the knowledge that my father took lovers to his bed that looked like me?

 

Male or female, I wasn't even sure if he cared which as long as there was some resemblance. And those lovers carried scars for weeks afterward. My father was not a gentle man, not in the slightest.

 

He pulled back, leaving me shaking with fear and revulsion and casually waved his hand. "Come."

 

I went, I followed and kept my mouth shut. He led me to the main audience hall and made a rude gesture at couple of his men. I felt out of place, still shirtless and sweaty among all the well-dressed courtiers. His guards were dragging a man in with them and my eyes got wide when I recognized him.

 

Hashiro?

 

He was just a servant, an ordinary steward, but he was kindly natured. When Inoki and I were younger, he'd often had the job of supervising us and keeping us out of the household staff's hair. He did a good job, distracting two rambunctious children with games and fun, never threatening us with a beating.

 

Inoki was particularly fond of him and his kindness. Hashiro never called him a half-breed or treated him any differently than he treated me. I hated the way some members of the staff treated my brother like he was nothing. I could understand how they'd gotten that attitude from the way my father abused us, but with me they stayed respectful.

 

With Inoki, they either ignored him or shoved him out of the way. Hashiro didn't do that and had earned my gratitude because of his kindness towards my brother.

 

And my father knew it. I turned to glare at him as he took his place on the great stone chair. "What did he do?" I demanded, hearing gasps from the court at my harsh, rude address of my father.

 

"He was clumsy in his duties," my father replied, enjoying my anger. "He tripped over his own feet while serving me and dropped a cup of wine in my lap. I thought to kill him outright, but then I remembered that he is favored by my sons."

 

Kill a man for dropping wine on him? I wasn't surprised; he'd kill for less than that. He'd kill for someone wishing him a good morning if he got up in a foul mood. He'd kill for it starting to rain when he wished it sunny. It made no difference really, he was cruel and enjoyed his cruelty and he killed because no one would stop him.

 

Except me. I looked away from Hashiro and sighed. "What do you want?"

 

My father laughed and raised a hand. One of the guards promptly kicked Hashiro in the face. He cried out, trying to muffle his pain behind his hands. I glared at my father. "You want me to beg you for his life?"

 

His smile was darkness itself. Swallowing my anger, I went to my father's chair and bowed. "Please, father," I said softly. "Spare his life."

 

He gestured again and another kick was administered. I went closer until I was just in front of him. I didn't want to tell Inoki that I'd let Hashiro die. I dropped my knees in front of the man that called himself my father and bowed my head.

 

"I beg you, my lord, please don't kill him."

 

My father reached out and stroked my hair, letting the silky strands slip through his fingers. My hands clenched so hard that my claws drew blood from where they clutched my legs. I let him pet me like a favorite toy, like a courtesan that pleased him.

 

"Very well," he said, his rough voice reaching only my ears. "My son begs me for a favor and I will grant it. Hashiro will not be killed."

 

Relieved, I backed away from him. Sure, my pride took a beating but I'd saved a man's life, a man that I thought of as a friend. It was enough for me. I turned to leave, wanting to get out of there and wash away where'd he touched me, but my father's voice stopped me cold.

 

"He will still be punished, Inutaisho. And you will do it."

 

I turned slowly, seeing the viciousness in his eyes. "Punish him?"

 

My father stood up and came to me, holding out a thick leather whip. "Beat him," he ordered.

 

I was horrified. "No," I whispered. He was asking me to beat and torture Hashiro, he wanted to watch me do it.

 

"If you disobey me, I will have him killed," my father answered smoothly, reaching for my hand and pressing the whip into it. "You will do this and you will do it correctly. If I suspect that you're holding back it means his death. It's time you learned to enjoy being what you are and enjoy the pain you can inflict."

 

I was trembling and forced myself to stop. I had no choice. Slowly, I went to Hashiro. "I'm sorry," I muttered. I couldn't even look him in the eyes.

 

Hashiro didn't move, didn't look up. He knew what was coming and I think he was too scared to move. Then he spoke. "I trust you, Inutaisho-sama." So I raised my arm and started.

 

It took a long time. My father wasn't going to be satisfied with a casual flogging and I didn't dare hold back. After the third stroke, Hashiro cried out. After the tenth, he was screaming. I hit him as hard as I could, hoping he'd pass out from the pain. Blood splattered around us, my father's dark laughter was the only sound in the room but for the sound of my whip striking over and over and Hashiro's voice screaming in pain.

 

Something inside me, some darkness was waking up to the sounds of the torture, excited by the scent of blood and agony in the air. By that time I knew what was going on, just as my father knew it would happen. The dark side of my youkai nature was reveling in it, even if my conscious mind was horrified. It sickened me, for the first time I really understood what my mother had said.

 

Don't be like him. Don't give into the darkness.

 

And that darkness was a part of me I could never escape.

 

With every stroke of the whip, the sound of flesh splitting under my blows, I knew I was becoming more and more like my father. No matter how much I trained myself to be above it, no matter how I tried to starve it out of existence. It was part of my nature and I hated it.

 

Almost as much as I hated him.