Dim Sum Asylum(88)
“You do not speak for the Kodama, Tou. You might have taken their name, but you are nothing but their tool, not their tongue,” the Takahashi railed. “You were the reason I married Kodama Akemi, to put an end to this, to bind our families together and forge a peace. It was a path out of the death spiral we were caught in.” My grandfather lifted his arm, aiming a small Beretta at the assassin’s head. “He would bring that all back to the surface, start that war all over again, Roku. I cannot allow that. He will not take any of mine from me again.”
“You’ve taken from you,” I reminded my grandfather, and the Kodama assassin chuckled, his mirth a wet roll in his throat. “You’ve killed your own. Hell, I had to stop you from killing Nobu just this morning. Don’t talk about ending bloodshed and embracing peace when you murder your own blood, Takahashi. You can say you do it to protect me, protect Yukiko, but we both know that’s not true. You do it to protect yourself, to protect your ego, so you can say no one can best you. Even now, you’ve arrived here probably because you know it’s safe to come in. I’ll let you play the savior with my grandmother, but don’t think for one minute I’ll let you kill my suspect.”
“You won’t have a choice.” Takahashi sneered, as proud and arrogant as he’d ever been. “I am your grandfather. I will kill this piece of filth, and you… my own blood and heir… won’t do anything to stop me.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Sofu, because as you’ve always pointed out, I am here to pick up where you end,” I corrected softly, and I shot him in the knee, sending him sprawling face-first into the mud.
Takahashi went down with a muffled groan, grabbing at his leg as he buckled, dropping his weapon. The shot was a good one, far from any artery. Blood oozed from the wound, and it was enough to distract him from grabbing his gun, which lay a few feet away. He wasn’t going to die. Or at least not yet. There was still time for the old fae to slaughter us where we stood.
For all of his palsy and rheumy eyes, the winged bastard was fast. I’d barely absorbed the recoil when he was on me, knives flashing, screaming for my death.
I lost Trent’s gun when I got hit. I also lost my breath. The fae struck me hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs, and we tumbled to the ground, his limbs wrapping around mine. His legs scissored viciously in, over and over, repeatedly smashing my balls and dick between my thighs. My stomach churned, caught in the maelstrom of sick rolling up from my crotch. I was on my back with the assassin under me with one of his hands trapped between us while the other was loose, able to stab me, if only he could get a good angle.
A blade flashed too close to my face, nearly slicing off the tip of my nose. I felt the wind and a kiss of an edge of my skin when my damned fae blood kicked in with a warning, a little too little and much too late. It was a difficult angle for him, and I returned the favor of crushed balls with a bend of my knees to lift me off the ground enough so I could push my full weight between his legs. My thighs ached, straining at the tilt on the ground and raising my torso, but when I slammed back into him, his whimpering mewl was a thing of beauty.
His arm went into spasms when I hit him, and his legs twitched, losing their hold on mine. I rolled away, kicking back with my left foot, connecting with his knee hard enough to make my teeth rattle around in the back of my head from the shock wave of bone hitting bone.
I was up onto my feet before he could get up. It was a bit of a fight to get my blades loose. My cuffs were slippery with mud, and by the time I got both clear of their sleeves, he was on his feet, crouched and ready to attack. There was only a few feet between us, enough space to require crossing soaking-wet grass and a slurry in order to attack, but it hardly mattered. A stride or two would bring us back together, and I couldn’t risk him getting an upper hand.
I was breathing hard, my heart pounding hard enough to leave a steady nik-nik beat against my eardrum. There were parts of me I didn’t know could ache, but they were doing their best to prove me wrong. Fatigue threatened to take me down. It’d only been a few hours since I’d woken up next to Trent, snuggled down warm in my bed with my body throbbing with a reminder of how long it’d been since I’d had sex. The day went to shit from the moment I’d opened my eyes, and if I wasn’t careful, there was a real possibility I’d be closing them for the very last time if I didn’t keep the old fae at bay.
“Roku!” Our struggle took us a few yards away from where my grandfather fell, and Takahashi grew paler, his fingers sliding around his wound. He looked wobbly, his eyes fluttering. The shock of being shot was wearing him down, and it wouldn’t be long before he fainted. Or so I thought, because a second later, he shouted at me, “Where’s the gun? Shoot him!”
“Let me handle this, Sofu.” I honestly didn’t know where the guns were anymore, and I couldn’t spare a second to go look for them. If I didn’t guess the old fae knew what he was doing with his blades simply by how he handled them, the chiming song of red metal stars when his tattered wings rubbed together was a poignant reminder. “Do you still pierce new ones in, Kodama’s Tou? Or do you no longer care enough about counting the souls you’ve taken so you leave the dead in the moment they were taken?”
“If you’re asking if I’m going to wear a red for you, then the answer’s no,” he shot back. “I’ve killed so many of you it would be like trying to wear a field of rice grains on my back.”