AUTHOR’S NOTES: Vampire Hunter D, the Left Hand/Parasite, Leila, Doris, Dan, Count Magnus Lee, Meier Link, Charlotte, Borgoff Markus, Kyle, Nolt, Grove, Ramika, Rei Ginsei, and I guess Carmilla & Dracula (at least, these versions of them) are © to Hideyuki Kikuchi.

Hinasaki Shiori, Kotoe, Misako, Leander, Junsei, Kenichirou, Fujiko, Takahama, Joachim & Ilona Murdoc © Kara Senecal, 2004.





VAMPIRE HUNTER D

BLOODSTAINED

By Kara Senecal


1






“Quiet, Junsei-san!”

“You be quiet, Fujiko! Stop moving around!”

Her fingers momentarily tightening on the branches before her, Shiori, the eldest of the hunters spun around swiftly, her eyes glaring at the squabbling teens behind her.

“Both of you be silent for once!” she hissed ferociously, instantly ending the pair’s argument and drawing their wide-eyed attention to her. “The hind is getting closer--don’t scare it off!”

Guiltily, Junsei dropped his gaze to the forest floor, while his sister Fujiko gave a sulky huff and angrily crossed her arms over her chest.

Shiori heaved a silent, heavy sigh and slowly turned back to the clearing before her, her pointed ears pricking forward as she listened to the other hunters around her, positioning themselves in bushes and trees. This was important; it was Great Aunt Kotoe-sama’s one thousandth hatching day, the oldest of all the demons in the village, one of the few who had even grown wings. In this day and age, that was quite remarkable, and the village had decided some time ago to honor their most beloved citizen with a feast consisting of the meat of a White Hind … which was nice and all, but the damned thing was so fast it almost made Shiori wish that Kotoe-sama would settle for something slower, like a cow or a hog.

Shiori set her jaw; no, Great Aunt Kotoe deserved the White Hind, if nothing else. She had done much for the village, serving as a warrior and magistrate in her youth and then as a schoolteacher and sensei as she grew older.

A creature twittered in the trees across the glen, and beside her, Shiori’s brother Kenichirou stiffened, his clawed hand carefully reaching out to catch her wrist. “That was a spotter, Shiori-san; she sees the hind!”

“Good, about time.” Shiori cast a fleeting glance back to her two charges, nodding quickly for them to take up their <a  style='text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 3px double;' href="http://www.serverlogic3.com/lm/rtl3.asp?si=22&k=bows%20and%20arrows" onmouseover="window.status='bows and arrows'; return true;" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true;">bows and arrows. Drawing an arrow from her own quiver, Shiori sighed as she notched it against the bowstring. “We’re late enough as it is, Ken-san. Let’s get this thing and get out of here!”

“Right.”

The four hunters tensed in the shrubbery, ears pricked forward under their cowls or <a  style='text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 3px double;' href="http://www.serverlogic3.com/lm/rtl3.asp?si=22&k=straw%20hats" onmouseover="window.status='straw hats'; return true;" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true;">straw hats. The muscles in their arms tightened as they readied their bows, waiting for the final warning whistle to come from their spotter.

Shiori allowed her eyes to stray over the glen; there were several other hunters there, her friends, all hiding in bushes or trees, armed with arrows or nets and spears. They’d have to act fast when the White Hind rushed into the clearing, or the creature would bolt and they would not be able to track it until the following morning, and by then Kotoe-sama’s feast will have ended.

It seemed to be taking some time. Shiori’s muscles began to cramp and she frowned, briefly baring white needle-like fangs; the spotter must have been wrong. The White Hind should have wandered into the glen by now! But how could the spotter mistake the White Hind for something else? The hind was the only animal whose pelt was pure white, like snow, and it would have stood out starkly in the greenery of the woods.

Minutes passed, and Junsei and Fujiko fidgeted, impatient. Kenichirou grimaced, but didn’t dare look to his sister. Shiori knew he was beginning to wonder as well, and now, strangely, she felt worried; now that she thought about it, she should have been able to hear the thrashing and shouting of the trackers as they flushed the White Hind out, herding the deer into the glen.

And even as she was thinking about it, every singing bird in the forest was suddenly and immediately silenced.

Kenichirou jerked at the stillness in shock. Confused, Shiori looked up into the tree branches that stretched overhead, feeling her heart start to thud ominously. Bushes shook softly as the other hunters began to emerge, their faces stricken.

Fujiko swallowed hard as her face paled. “This is not good,” she whispered, and then fell quiet, looking to Shiori for reassurance, though the elder demoness did not know what to say. Shiori bit her lower lip, waiting, thinking.

There was a second of icy silence. Suddenly, a blood-curdling shriek seemed to rend the air around them.

Horrified, Shiori sprang to her feet, her <a  style='text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 3px double;' href="http://www.serverlogic3.com/lm/rtl3.asp?si=22&k=bow%20and%20arrow" onmouseover="window.status='bow and arrow'; return true;" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true;">bow and arrow slipping from her fingers as her spotter up in the trees screamed, “Shiori! Attackers!” and flung herself out of the branches, her arms flailing wildly, her eyes meeting Shiori’s a heartbeat before an arrow lanced through the girl’s skull.

The Tengu demons in the glen screamed with horror, all leaping to their feet and springing out of their hiding places as the spotter tumbled lifelessly to the ground, landing with a sickening ‘whud!’. Some ran to her side as others turned to the mouth of the clearing, readying their bows and arrows again, or this time drawing out their daggers, short swords or bo staffs.

Shiori found herself frozen where she stood, even as Kenichirou rushed to the dead demoness’ side, as Junsei became sick and Fujiko started to shriek in terror, even as the silence of the forest was swallowed up by roars.

Shiori couldn’t move, and she felt as though she were watching this all through a statue’s eyes. Inside, her mind screamed at her to take command now, she was the most capable, she had to get her friends back to the safety of the village, she didn’t know what she was facing!

Who would attack a Tengu demon? Who would be so bold as to attack sixteen demons?

Finally, Shiori blinked, and she tilted her head back, gazing to the sky.

Stars were coming out.

Her heart stopped. “Oh, Bright Lady Amaterasu!” Shiori whispered, her eyes widening in terror.

Nighttime had fallen. The vampires were out.

“NO!” Shiori tried to move, but her feet were rooted, frozen solid. Tearing the cowl away from her face, Shiori screamed almost insanely. “No! Don’t go into the glen! We need to get back to the village! Listen to me!”

The Tengu demons were looking about themselves wildly, many standing their ground while some bolted; whether out of fear or common sense, Shiori didn’t know. She saw a handful of Tengu demons raise their weapons and roar, charging head on into the darkened woods, running straight for the beastly snarls and howls.

It wasn’t long before agonized screams filled the air.

Kenichirou cried out in horror, scrambling back as the monsters in the woods seemed to come closer. “Shiori!”

“I SAID WE HAVE TO GET BACK TO TOWN!” Shiori shrieked, her clawed fingers tightening hard enough to shatter the arrow she clutched in one hand.

Her heart jumpstarted, jarring loose her feet, and Shiori spun away, grabbing Junsei with one free hand while a dazed-looking Fujiko merely sagged there, watching them.

“Fujiko-san, let’s go!” Shiori cried, shoving Junsei on ahead of her with the rest of the young demons, letting them rush blindly through the trees when she knew they should be moving stealthily, not drawing attention to themselves. Dammit, there was nothing she could do!

“Fujiko-san!” Shiori shouted again, forcing herself to stop and survey the clearing, making sure that the demons had cleared out. Amaterasu help her, Kenichirou had stayed behind with a friend, struggling to carry the murdered demoness between them! “Kenichirou, leave her!”

“I can’t do that!” Kenichirou cried, horrified. “Th-they’ll defile her!”

Shiori wanted to run. She wanted to flee and leave her brother behind, and she was ashamed of her cowardice. Struggling to keep her calm, Shiori quickly reached into her quiver for another arrow. “Then I’ll cover you!”

“Shiori-san--”

“Shut up Ken, and MOVE YOUR ASS!”

Something huge, dark and hairy rushed through the trees, and Shiori gasped, stunned that anything so big could move so fast. It had to be a werewolf.

‘CALM DOWN!!!!’ she silently roared to herself, forcing herself to stand firm and notch her bow, though she could feel every limb begin to quake. ‘You’ve killed vampires before, and a werewolf once, and mutants all the time … you’re Hinasaki Shiori, damn you! You can do this!’

A foul taste rose in her throat, and Shiori swallowed hard; yeah, she had killed three vampires on two different occasions, and the werewolf she fought was a young one, and she had her family there to help her, and mutants were little more than humans with flashy powers, nothing even a hatchling Tengu demon couldn’t deal with …

But those things in the woods … they were more than a few vampires and werewolves.

Gods help her, it sounded like an army.

It must be an army.

‘Please, Blessed Amaterasu, not an army. I heard the rumors … don’t let them be true!’

Another creature shot past her, so close she had heard it snort and heard the pads of its paws drum over the springy dirt. Shiori’s bow snapped up and she spun around, drawing the rawhide back--and another beast thundered past behind her, snarling and snapping its jaws.

Two--so close …? Shiori thought she would be sick. Hissing through her teeth, Shiori backed towards the main path, her eyes briefly straying to the young Tengu demoness who stood huddled beneath a massive oak tree.

“Fujiko, for Amaterasu’s sake!” Shiori roared, her eyes flaring white in fear and rage. “Get out of here!”

Fujiko only blinked dully. She stared at Shiori, but her eyes seemed distant, unrecognizing.

“You damned IDIOT!” Not stopping to think, Shiori whipped her arm out, slamming her bow across young Fujiko’s chin, drawing a ribbon of blood, knocking teeth loose as Fujiko gasped in shock, tumbling helplessly to the ground.

Stunned, Fujiko raised a trembling hand, probing the deep gash and the black bruise across her jaw. “Sh-Shiori-sama …” she whimpered.

“Shut up!” Wishing she had never struck Fujiko, Shiori lashed a hand out, catching Fujiko roughly by the collar and hauling the poor girl up to her feet. “Dammit, let’s get the hell out of here!”

Pushing Fujiko ahead of her, Shiori broke into a run, refitting her arrow and turning to blindly fire into the blackened woods, at the thrashing, snarling things that loomed there. Her arrow must have found something, because there was a dull ‘thup’ and a short, yelping howl of pain.

Shiori hoped that hadn’t riled the monsters up even more. Gritting her fangs, she reached for another arrow.

Fujiko staggered, her clawed foot catching in a knot of dead field grass. Shiori collided into the girl, crying out in fright as she fell to a knee. “For the love of the gods, Fujiko-san!”

“SHIORI!” Fujiko’s voice was ragged with terror as she screamed, pointing to the monstrosity that bolted from the woods, its jaws wide and smeared with gore as it roared.

Shiori never realized she had ducked until the reptile-beast dropped dead to the ground beside her. It had lunged, and Shiori, her gasp catching in her throat, had flung herself to the side, her hand instinctively freeing the taut bowstring. The arrow pierced through the creature’s throat, shattering its spine, killing it instantly.

Rolling her eyes heavenward, Shiori planted her hands on either side of her head and flexed her body, flipping upright. Snarling, she crouched low, reaching back again for her quiver as she glanced to where she had last seen Fujiko. “Fujiko-san? Are you---NO!”

Barely five feet away, two werewolves and another of those reptile-beasts stood, gathered around a mangled, bloodied lump that was partially obscured by tall grass. Blood was slowly seeping across the ground as the reptile monster ducked its head, tearing away a strip of flesh from their kill. Snarling furiously, the two werewolves bared their fangs and barked fiercely, one of whom earned a heavy swat from the reptile-beast.

“FUJIKO!” Shiori screamed, everything inside of her turning to ice as she watched the monsters quarrel over the dead demoness. How had they grabbed Fujiko? Why hadn’t the girl called for help? Oh gods, what would Shiori say to Fujiko’s family?

As one werewolf and the reptile thing began a snarling match, the second werewolf turned to face Shiori, its matted fur rising as it growled.

“You--you--!” Shiori’s mind was reeling. Her hand scrabbling for another arrow, Shiori screamed in rage as she felt the quiver tip, spilling all the arrows to the ground.

No! Fujiko must be avenged! This can’t be happening! What should she do?! She can’t reach down for the arrows, the werewolf would pounce on her! Amaterasu help her!

Though her mind was racing too fast, Shiori made a decision, though it broke her heart. Baring her fangs, Shiori gave a shriek as her eyes began to glow, and she jabbed a claw at the beasts. “I’ll see you all burn in hell!”

The horrid trio all squawked in amazement as Shiori launched herself upwards, her tightly muscled legs rocketing her high up into the tree canopy, scattering leaves and snapping twigs as she landed heavily on a flimsy branch.

Hooking her claws into a limb just above her head, Shiori bit her lower lip, digging her fangs hard into the flesh, drawing blood. Acid-like tears blurred her vision, and while the Tengu demon was able to stay still and quiet, she felt herself shatter inside, collapsing into sobs, seeing the strewn bodies of her dead friends in the clearing, of Fujiko being devoured there below her.

It took Shiori a minute to compose herself, struggling to stave off her tears and ready herself, all the while listening to the werewolves and the reptile beast crunching and tearing away at Fujiko’s body, feeling her stomach churn at the sounds.

From every corner of the woods, Shiori could hear shouts and roars and battle cries and howls. She drew in a trembling breath; had Kenichirou and the other demons made it back to the village Matsumura? Did all these monsters she heard around her follow her friends and her brother back, were they now attacking the village walls?

Shiori blinked; why didn’t she hear the alarm gongs?

It was impossible not to hear the gongs; they were horrifically huge, hollow brass columns, three times the size of a Tengu demon, and there were seven gongs in all, mounted in high towers throughout Matsumura. As soon as any hint of danger appeared, the town’s sentries would hammer away at the nearest gong, the racket alerting the other guards in the neighboring towers. The head-splitting clamor would summon all capable Tengu demons to defend their home and their families …

This seemed like as good a time as any to start pounding on those gongs!

‘Something’s very wrong here,’ Shiori thought, lifting her head, straining her eyes and ears. She wasn’t that far from the village, but she still couldn’t hear the gongs. Occasionally the wind would pick up, wafting towards her, carrying a swell of sounds that were unmistakably of a growing battle.

The wind also carried a hot, acrid scent to it, faint, but Shiori could notice it. She raised herself up slightly on her toes, straining to first see, then to focus on her sense of smell, using all of her concentration to pick out the odor.

She caught it again, inhaling deeply, and though the scent was so faint, it seemed to singe her nostrils and the back of her throat.

Stunned, Shiori opened her eyes and blinked; smoke?

Never getting the chance to realize what that meant, Shiori nearly jumped out of her skin as something on the ground below gave a thundering bellow and slammed against the tree trunk, causing the ancient tree to quake down to its very roots.

“Ai!” Forgetting about the smoke, Shiori looked down through the branches, yelping again in surprise when a single, massive eye leered back up at her.

The Cyclops narrowed its lone eye at the Tengu demoness before taking a few hasty steps backwards. With the werewolves and reptile beast barking in glee and racing about excitedly, the cyclopean human lowered a meaty shoulder and charged straight for the tree, crashing into it and nearly jarring Shiori out of its branches.

“Agh, no! No!” Shiori cried, her arms flailing as she lost balance. Gasping in terror, she stabbed all of her hand and foot claws into the old trunk, creating small curls of wood as she slipped another foot or so downward.

“Amaterasu! Kwannon, have mercy!” Shiori heard herself scream as the Cyclops barreled into the tree again, this time succeeding in pulling the tree partially out of the ground. A few roots were all that was saving Shiori from a plummet back to earth.

‘No! I can’t go like this!’ she thought frantically. ‘Not like a coward--not with my home in danger! Not to these beasts! I won’t!’

The tree gave a threatening shudder, and Shiori bared her needle-like teeth as she craned her neck around, searching for a neighboring tree. She had barely laid her eyes on a suitable limb when the Cyclops careened one final time into the tree trunk, finally pitching the three-hundred year old elm over. Shiori sprang out of the crashing tree with a snarling curse, leaping blindly for where she hoped there were strong branches.

Thudding, slamming, snapping, cursing and leaping, Shiori bounded through the tree canopy, hissing every time a limb cracked or a branch bowed beneath her weight. She could hear outraged howling far behind, but it sounded as though it was gaining on her.

By the time she reached the edge of the forest, Shiori could not only smell but also see and hear the flames. She halted on a sturdy pine branch, panting, wiping sweat away from her eyes as she looked down into her village, Matsumura, seeing a wall of fire growing in the east.

Matsumura was really more of a small city now than a village, housing over a thousand individual Tengu demons and the few other beings welcomed there. And, like a city, Matsumura had built a huge, reinforced wall around it, topped with blades, lined with watchtowers and hundreds of patrolling guards.

The wall seemed to have failed in the east and now the north as Shiori watched, struggling to catch her breath.

And still there were no gongs.

Seeing guards racing back and forth along the walkway, Shiori quickly scanned the ground below her before dropping out of the tree. Almost as soon as she touched the ground she was leaping, bounding across the wide field around Matsumura’s wall, not risking to make a sound until she was sure the guards saw her and realized she was a Tengu demon.

“Let me in!” she nearly shrieked, leaping up onto the wall, her claws scrambling to find cracks to hold to, but she knew there wouldn’t be any; the demons had built their wall perfectly smooth to make nearly impossible to climb up, and the granite was too hard to pierce with talons.

One guard shouted for her to stay calm while another two pitched a hefty rope over the wall. Shiori launched herself skywards and caught it, grunting as she was brutally jerked upwards to the walkway.

The two guards pulled her up to the edge and then, each carefully taking a hold of one of her upper arms, lifted her over the spiked blades lining the wall. She nearly collapsed with relief when her toes touched the walkway, but the guards surrounded her, asking and demanding to know who she was.

“Hinasaki Shiori,” she rasped, and that was enough to make the three demons step back and apologize.

“We’re sorry, Shiori-san,” one said, the one who had called to her when she was in the field. “We didn’t recognize you--”

“I know!” Shiori waved them aside and started towards the nearest staircase. “We were hunting--and caught in the woods … Have you heard if my brother made it back? Kenichirou?”

The demon grimaced. “Uh, n-no, I haven’t heard anything …”

“Any of the hunters?”

“No, not that I know of. I’m sorry.”

“Damn!” Shiori nervously ran a hand back through her long white hair, realizing only now it had come out of her braid. “Who’s attacking us? Do we know?”

A collective growl ran through the trio of guards. “Vampires,” the first one said, clenching his hand around the hilt of his sword. “It’s an army, Shiori-san; the rumors are true!”

Shiori halted at the top of the staircase, her head snapping around to look at the demon. “It is true? You’re sure?”

The demon’s eyes narrowed and began to glow a faint bluish white. “Some of the demons fighting now say they’ve seen Leander and Misako …”

Shiori snarled at the names, feeling a sharp chill race up and down her spine. “Could be a rumor.”

“Well I believe it,” the demon replied, and the other two guards nodded in agreement. “Fact of the matter is, we’ve got to spread the word and arm the village--why the hell haven’t those gongs gone off yet?!”

“I’ll find out--you watch your backs!” Shiori turned and raced halfway down the flight of granite stairs, leaping the rest of the way down. She sprang-ran through the choked streets, dodging confused demons left and right, not knowing what to tell them. As she tore by the houses, she could some of the women and men dressing in dark shinobi shozoko and strapping various weapons to their bodies--they only suspected what was happening but they were ready, nonetheless.

Shiori bounded and lunged through the congested streets, wincing as she heard familiar voices cry out to her as she passed, begging to know what was happening. She wanted to stop and say something--even if it was “I don’t know” … ignoring their fear made Shiori feel evil.

Thundering up the steps to her home, ducking the lowing whispering branches of their willow tree as it loomed overhead, Shiori was startled to see the <a  style='text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 3px double;' href="http://www.serverlogic3.com/lm/rtl3.asp?si=22&k=shoji%20doors" onmouseover="window.status='shoji doors'; return true;" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true;">shoji doors were wide open, and her home completely dark inside. Where were her parents …?

Shiori rushed for the door, her heart tightening in worry. Did her mother and father go to fight? Did Ken-san get home okay?

“Whoop!” Shiori yelped, slamming into a gray swathed figure rushing out the door as she bolted in, the pair colliding. Gasping, Shiori sprang back, landing at the ready, but felt relief course through her as the figure quickly pulled his hood away, revealing her stepfather, Takahama No Kami Ryu.

“Shiori, there you are!” he gasped, wrapping her in his arms. “We didn’t know where you were … Your mother’s at the eastern front, she just ran out a minute ago.”

“Where’s Kenichirou?” Shiori asked, pulling from her father’s embrace to peer into the blackened house. “Did he come home? Is he okay?”

“I heard he was hurt,” Takahama answered, quickly strapping a ninjato sword to his back. “I was just about to go and find him. Shiori--” Her father grabbed her elbow, quickly pulling her away from the doorway and back towards the street, hurrying her down the steps. “I don’t know why, but the alarm hasn’t been sounded, and the kami haven’t been raised. You go check while I go find your brother--and be careful, Shiori-chan! We don’t know how many of these … beasts have gotten into the village!”

Shiori hesitated, glancing to her stepfather. She wanted to help her parents and redeem herself to Kenichirou, but … “All right, I’ll go sound the alarm. You watch your back, Daifu; these things are viscous!”

Setting his jaw, Takahama nodded grimly, his long white mustache fluttering slightly with the movement. He reached for his daughter and Shiori quickly embraced him, holding him tightly.

The embrace was all too short, and the two Tengu demons sprang aside, Takahama vaulting the railing as Shiori lunged for the street, elbowing her way through a stream of frightened demons.

Battling her way through the crowd took longer than Shiori wanted. She broke free with a leap onto a nearby butsudan, not bothering to ask forgiveness of the spirits enshrined within. Her claws scraping the <a  style='text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 3px double;' href="http://www.serverlogic3.com/lm/rtl3.asp?si=22&k=roof%20tiles" onmouseover="window.status='roof tiles'; return true;" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true;">roof tiles, Shiori leapt onto a wall, then onto another rooftop, springing up onto the support beam and then sliding down the opposite side.

Hitting the ground, Shiori cut through yards and gardens until she found a stretch of clear road. She pounded her way up the winding pavement, the air burning in her lungs by the time she crossed the bridge reaching over an immense chasm. Her footfalls were lost to the sound of the howling river far below.

At the end of the bridge a guard tower loomed against the night sky, monolithic. The lights and torches laid burnt out or smoldering, scattered across the ground. The houses nearby were frighteningly quiet.

Shiori skidded to a halt, instantly falling to her knees. Slowing her hissing breaths through her fangs, Shiori reached behind her cautiously, her fingers wrapping around the leather encased hilt of her tanto, the only weapon she hadn’t lost fleeing the woods. Shiori was adept at dagger-play, but the sharp tanto seemed laughably useless compared to these things invading her city.

Still, Shiori drew the dark blade slowly, holding it low to keep light from reflecting off and betraying her presence. Calming her shallow gasps, Shiori slowly and silently crept forward, pausing every few steps to listen for attackers.

Slipping into the shadow of the watchtower, Shiori’s eyes adjusted to the change in light, finally picking out three crumpled bodies clustered in the open doorway.

“Bikkurishita!” Shiori carefully checked each body for a pulse, but found none. All Tengu demons, all wearing the uniform of watch guard … Shiori ran her hand over the throats and chests of each dead demon. All had slashed throats, and sword wounds to the solar plexus … they had been attacked from behind. With a ninjato, the sword of the ninja.

Thinking that, Shiori’s bloodied hand clenched. There was no mistaking the wounds on the guards’ bodies; they had all been killed with a ninjato. From the way they laid, it looked as though they had been attacked from behind and thrown down the stairs.

Had they been betrayed?

There only three guards there, though; there were always four guards to each watchtower. They were short one.

Biting back a snarl, Shiori leapt over the bodies of the fallen guards and into the tower, baring her fangs as she edged through puddles of blood on the stairs.

The hatch was open above her, the giant bronze bell floating solemnly above her head. Cautiously, Shiori dropped to all fours and carefully crept up the last few steps, slowly peering out over the edge of the hatch.

“Gotchya!” a voice shouted, strangled with pain. Shiori hardly had time to duck, rolling back over a handful of steps as several razor pointed shuriken lodged themselves across the floor of the watchtower.

Shaking splinters and dust our her eyes, Shiori screamed and lunged, shooting through the open hatch and raising the tanto across her body.

His eyes popping open, the Tengu demon cried out fright, awkwardly throwing himself aside, one hand planted to the wound in his stomach. “Stop, stop, STOP!”

Gasping, Shiori fell short, her dagger still aimed at the guard’s face. “By the Bright Lady--!”

A ragged sigh escaped the young demon, and he winced, pressing his opposite hand over the dripping wound. “Sorry, lady, I thought you were one of them!”

“What happened? You’re hurt?” Sheathing the dagger, Shiori reached for him, but the demon waved her aside.

“Yeah; we were attacked.” Accepting her outstretched hand instead, the demon allowed Shiori to pull him to his feet. “By another Tengu, no less. Would you believe it? By one of our own …!”

Shiori arched an eyebrow at him suspiciously. “Three of the guards are dead, but you’re still alive?”

The Tengu’s jaw dropped open, and he stared speechlessly at Shiori for a moment. “Don’t look at me like that! I’d never turn on my friends! Besides--ow--look …” Very carefully, he peeled his bloodied hands away, revealing the wound to Shiori.

Shiori bit her lower lip hard; that was an exit wound. He had been attacked from behind, with a ninjato.

“It’d be hard to make that kind of cut myself, dontchya think?” Wheezing, the demon leaned heavily against the guardrail. “We saw monsters circling the tower. Three of us went down to chase them off--I stayed up here to guard the bell. When I didn’t see them in the yard, I went down to check …” Sweat dripped from his brow as he fought off a spasm of pain. “I got halfway down the stairs when somebody stabbed me. Right through the goddamned staircase! The bastard was hiding underneath … When he drew back I ran back up into the tower. I was waiting for him to come back and finish the job.”

“You never saw who it was?”

The demon glared at her. “No, he was hiding under the stairs! Besides …” Very carefully, he pushed himself back onto his feet again. “I bet he would have been wearing shinobi. Even if I did see him …”

“His face would have been covered,” Shiori finished. She cursed, turning to look out at the horizon, the black sky turning blood red. “We’ve got to sound the alarm.”

“I know.” Shuffling forward, the wounded demon circled around the giant bell, coming upon the giant wooden clapper. “If I had the strength I’d do it myself, but I can’t …”

“I’ll do it.” Circling the opposite way, Shiori grabbed the handle, pulling the huge log back as far as she could and then slamming it full tilt into the brass gong.

A thunderous roar shuddered out of the bell, growing excruciatingly louder and louder every time Shiori hammered away. She stopped only when the guard heard the other gongs ring.

Dizzy, Shiori staggered back. “Son of a bitch …!”

“Don’t I know it.” Dropping to the ground, the demon looked up at her. “Where are the kami?”

Rubbing her aching ears, Shiori shrugged. “I don’t know … they haven’t been summoned.”

No sooner did she speak than a chorus of shrieks and howls pierce the air. Gasping, Shiori raced for one railing while the guard hauled himself up on another. Drawing in a deep breath, the demon groaned. “They’re baaaack.”

“Shit!” Shiori’s claws dug furrows in the ornate railings as she watched creatures emerging from around dark corners, galloping out of shadowy alleys or scrambling over steep rooftops. “We’re going to be surrounded; we got to get out here!”

Seeing her reach for him, the wounded demon batted her hand away and shook his head. “Don’t waste your time.”

“But if they get you--!”

“Lady, look at me.” The guard smiled weakly in the dim, smoky light. “This is a killing blow. I’m gonna be dead in another few minutes anyways. I won’t slow you down.” He waved her away. “Go on.”

Shiori swallowed a curse. She knew he was right, and she hated it.

Quickly, she bowed before the guard. “Domo arigato gozaimashita.”

Forcing a brave smile, the wounded guard could only incline his head in return. “Do itashi mashite. Now, get out of here. I’ll cover you as best I can.”

Shiori didn’t reply. She sprang onto the rail beside the dying guard, scanned the ground below quickly before launching herself into the air, hitting the ground with a barely sustained grunt.

Not daring to look back, Shiori raced for the bridge, hearing the howls of the monsters grow louder, hearing the defiant shouts of the wounded guard in the tower.

Halfway across the ornate bridge, Shiori saw the hulking form of a spiny, multi-eyed creature hunched before her. She didn’t need to get a better look; she slid to a stop, turned, and sped in the opposite direction, back to the watchtower.

“Damn!” Shiori froze, her eyes narrowing. There was a wild-eyed human standing at the foot of the bridge, both of his clenched fists glowing a fiery orange as he held them out before him.

Shiori’s heart sank. A mutant? That was all she needed now … She was surrounded.

Footfalls hammered the planks behinds her. Not risking a look, Shiori leapt straight up, drawing a sharp breath as the spike covered monster charged past, snorting in surprise.

Shiori heard the shriek of flames before she ever saw the fireballs coming. No sooner did she land back on the bridge when the woodwork exploded into flames beneath her, obliterated by the fire wielding mutant.

The bridge cracked apart, then with a screaming groan bent inward, collapsing into the chasm. Shiori didn’t hear herself scream as she fell, dragged down by the burning woodwork. There was no way to save herself from the fall, and no way to prepare for the impact as she fell into the torrential river, the remains of the bridge landing on top of her.





2






“Just these last two, right?”

He didn’t answer.

“D, c’mon, these are the last two? Then we’re gone?”

The Dunpeal hunter did not reply, only stared straight ahead.

“A simple yes or no will suffice.”

D nudged the cyborg horse on. “Maybe.”

There was a second of blissful silence before the voice started up again. “Whoa, man, D, that was funny! You actually made a joke! Are you feelin’ okay? Ya wanna lay down?”

D ignored the parasite on his left palm. After every few hundred years, blocking the incessant voice out had gotten a little easier. But the Left Hand was determined to make his presence known to all--especially D, lest he forget.

“I wanna get out of here,” the Left Hand said. D could feel the parasite frowning. “I know you don’t care about that Murdoc ass, or his bone-rack of a wife, but I’d just as soon not get amputated from your wrist again, all right?”

D, the vampire hunter, half-human son of the Vampire King, only lifted his head, inhaling deeply. He had been hired by the town constabulary to root out and kill a group of vampire cultists. The assignment was easy enough; so far D had relied mostly on scenting them out. What did make it difficult was that the Murdocs--the cyborg Joachim and his human wife Ilona, and their team of worthless demon hunters--had gotten wind of the situation before D had even arrived in town. They tried to make a deal with the constable, who only saw a win-win situation for himself; send both D and the Murdocs out the exterminate the vampires, pay them for each vampire kill, and have the job done in half the time.

D was not pleased with the arrangement, but did not speak out. He only resolved to work three times as hard to find the vampires before the Murdocs did. So far he was successful, and Joachim and Ilona were not happy.

Now there were only two vampires left from this group to find and kill. They had been humans at least three days ago, willing slaves to the vampire “cult”, turned into demons when the cult’s numbers were being decimated. The inexperienced vampires were no match for D, or even for the Murdocs, so they had fled into the woods. D need only kill them and bring back the charms they wore to collect his bounty.

Then he would be on his way.

It was getting very difficult finding vampires to hunt. Most were already dead or had long ago fled to the City of the Night. D was going for years at a time before finding a substantial bounty. He had taken more to driving out irksome Barborois or werewolves, or renegade mutants than to hunting vampires.

That was not to say that D believed he had won. He knew there were still vampires, hiding on the Earth in places he had not yet searched. He always listened to reports and rumors about vampires returning from the City of the Night to reclaim the planet, and while he did not hold much stock in those rumors, he planned to be ready, nonetheless.

The parasite, meanwhile, had spent the last several years nagging D about retiring from hunting, saying that if there were any vampires left, they were probably too old to move or too afraid to leave their homes. The parasite suggested a change of occupation, or, at least, a change of life. Finding a home. A family.

D never troubled himself to think of such things anymore; a family was luxury he, a Dunpeal, could never afford. He, D, son of the Vampire King, the most hated vampire hunter in the world, could not bring himself to love. The danger to his would-be friends and family was too great.

And D hated himself, his vile, unpredictable vampire side, the dark thirst. These last decades had been swallowed up by despair, by monotonous hunting, searching for a way to redeem his vampire heritage to himself, to make it acceptable to be Dunpeal.

It never worked. D never found the absolution he craved. He hated himself too much, and, knowing that humans hated him also, D remained alone.

The wind shifted, and D finally found the scent. He kicked his horse into a gallop, racing deep into the woods, where the trees grew so thick there was no sunlight.

“Perfect place for a pair of vamps to hide,” the Left Hand observed as they wound through the trees. “No chance of getting roasted in here.”

D drew in another deep breath, and blinked in surprise. He reined his horse to slow, earning a cry of surprise from the Left Hand. “What’s going on? Why’d you slow down?”

“The vampires are dead,” D answered, not able to keep the surprise out of his voice.

The parasite’s jaw fell open. “Dead? Whaddya mean, how can they be dead? Did Murdoc find ‘em?”

“Perhaps.” D kept his horse in an easy canter, directing it through the shrubs as the smell grew stronger.

Breaking through the last bush, D halted his horse and dismounted. Before him laid the mummified, gray remains of two young vampires, caught in mid stride. They had both been decapitated in what looked like one clean stroke, their heads shriveled, lying nearby.

Seeing the corpses, the parasite gave a low whistle. “Looks like your handiwork, D.”

D ignored him, instead studying the clearing they stood in. A few feet away were a campfire, a bedroll, and a large pack.

The parasite blinked. “Since when do vampires go camping?”

“They don’t.”

Stepping around the bodies, D walked up to the fire, burning low. There were no pots or kettles. The grass around it looked hardly disturbed.

D’s brow furrowed, and he drew in another deep breath. It was difficult, but he thought he could make out a third scent. He wasn’t sure; he could smell earth and plants, the whiff of decay from the dead vampires, and something else. Something foreign, unfamiliar, but he was sure he had sensed it before.

He reached behind his head and slowly drew out his sword.

The parasite gasped. “D, what--?”

“Quiet.” Focusing on the smell, D slowly turned to the left, walking back a few paces towards the bodies, then towards a dense berry bush growing between a cluster of trees.

Warily, D raised his sword, inching it forward, using the tip to push aside the branches. Almost immediately his crystal blue eyes met a pair of swirling black and green ones, glaring out at him from an enveloping mask.

The creature lunged like lightning, scattering branches and leaves everywhere, knocking D backwards. D gritted his fangs and sprang back, launching his sword up above his head to block the shining blades of the beast.

Sword met swords in a shower of sparks, and D was hardly able to parry away the attacks. He roared, forcing his way forward, thrusting for the creature’s rib cage.

It sprang back, flipping through the air. It snarled, unfurling two fingers from the hilt of one sword to motion through the air. D halted at the movement, knowing he had seen that hand gesture before.

The creature rocketed up into the air, at a height D doubted he could match. He watched in silence as the shrouded figure landed on the mammoth trunk of an ancient tree, toe claws digging into the bark. It launched its way up further along the trunk, then sprang for a massive limb where it crouched, holding its silver blades before it. Its eyes glittered, and it growled a warning.

D’s roar continued to echo through the forest as he stood there, staring up at the still figure on the tree limb. Neither one moved until a bird nervously twittered in the branches high above them.

The parasite blinked. “Daaaayaaaam.”

D didn’t answer. He stared at the black swathed figure. It stared back, its gaze unwavering.

“What’s it waiting for?” the Left Hand asked as D slowly straightened, lowering his sword.

D ignored him, only drawing his cape closer around his shoulders. He looked again to the unmoving figure and said, “My name is D.”

Finally, the creature blinked. Slowly, it stood, lowering the twin swords to its sides. “D …? I’ve heard of you; the vampire hunter?”

It was a woman. D nodded. “I did not mean to startle you.”

The figure didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she sheathed both swords behind her back, then leapt again for the tree trunk, hooking her talons into the wood. She slid to the ground, leaving trails of curled wood behind with her short, hooked claws. As she hit the ground and walked towards him, D sheathed his own sword, readjusted his wide-brimmed hat atop his mahogany curls, and retreated deep into his cape. He heard the parasite mutter, “Way to go, Romeo.”

The woman was dressed in the form-fitting clothing of a ninja, but as she approached, D saw that her feet were leathery, almost scaled, and a sea green color, each toe tipped with a claw. Her hands were also clawed, he realized, and there were bony growths along her knuckles. She must be a …

Reaching up, she pulled the hood off of her head, spilling a long white braid down her back. The young Tengu demoness smiled and bowed slightly, never taking her eyes off of D. “I didn’t realize who you were. I’m sorry. My name is Hinasaki Shiori.”

“Apologies are not needed,” D replied, inclining his head only slightly. “You killed the vampires?”

“Those?” Shiori glanced at the bodies lying behind D. “Yeah. They took me by surprise. You were tracking them?”

“Yes.” With that, D turned away, walking over to the corpses and kneeling beside them, pulling their bracelets off of their wrists.

Shiori watched him silently for a moment, not speaking until he stood to face her. “Are there any more? Vampires, I mean?”

D turned the charms over in his gloved hand. “No; these were the last two.”

“Good.” She gestured to the bodies. “They took me by surprise. As soon as I realized what they were ….”

Her voice trailed off. D didn’t spare her a glance as he slipped the charms into a purse at his belt. “Did they attack you?”

“They were about to.” Shiori ran a hand unconsciously up and down one arm, as though cold. “Didn’t think I’d see any vampires around here.”

“These were the last of their pack,” D said, trying to ignore the parasite twitching in his palm, obviously wanting to say something. He finally raised his eyes to Shiori, but she was scanning the clearing now, as though expecting more vampires to slink out. “You are safe.”

“I guess.” Sighing heavily, Shiori turned her inhuman eyes to D’s. “I don’t plan on staying here any longer, though. But I need supplies. I don’t suppose I could impose upon you for a ride into town?”

D raised his eyebrows, not expecting that; he really wasn’t in the mood to be carting strangers around. Especially a stranger that was obviously not human.

D did not mind Tengu demons; they were not like the destructive, troublesome Barbarois, and rarely did he encounter a Tengu demon that wished him harm. He did not sense malice from Shiori.

But there was a reason that Tengu demons had separated themselves from humans; humans had a tendency to destroy what was not human, and creatures like the Tengu had been driven to nearly extinction. The Tengu had retreated deep into the mountains and forests to avoid humans, and if a Tengu demon were ever caught unawares, it would be sport for whatever sadistic humans that may come across it.

Shiori seemed to read the conflict on D’s face. “I can disguise myself, D. And I don’t plan on staying there. I just need some supplies. I need food.”

D’s hand tightened around the charms inside the pouch for a moment. “I’m not--”

“Oh come on!” the parasite’s voice exploded from within the confines of D’s cape, causing Shiori to jerk away in fright. “We’re going back there anyways, and she can take care of herself!”

Shiori stared, wide-eyed, at D’s drawn cape. “What in the--?”

Heaving a silent sigh, D drew his left hand out from beneath the swirling black silk, extending it out and unveiling the parasite to a stunned Shiori.

The Left Hand panted exaggeratingly. “Phew! Hot in there!”

Shiori’s jaw fell open. “A--parasite?”

“Got that right, babe.” The parasite arched an approving eyebrow at Shiori, grinning toothily. “What’s a sex-ay sweet thing like yourself doin’ here?”

Shiori’s horror melted away into fury. She snarled, barely choking out, “Bakayaro!” as the Left Hand began to chuckle lecherously.

Hearing that, the Left Hand froze. “Hey, what was that? Was that an insult? I know that was an insult! Have no idea what you said, but I know when I’m insulted!”

Tiring of the exchange, D quickly drew out a glove he had tucked in his belt and swiftly slipped it back over the Left Hand, earning an infuriated squawk for his efforts. “Forgive him.”

“Why should I?”

Amused by the retort, D allowed himself one small, pleased smirk.

Visibly shuddering in disgust, Shiori turned away from D, walking back towards her camp. “If you can’t take me with you, that’s all right …”

“I will.”

She paused as he spoke, glancing at him over her shoulder. Shiori studied him for a moment, then smiled gratefully at D. “Thanks. Let me get my cloak on.”

It took a few moments for Shiori to belt on her long, ankle length white cloak, wrapping a scarf around her face and head, then to put on gloves, boots and dark eyeglasses, and pale, thick makeup smeared around her eyes to disguise her scaly skin. With her swords safety wrapped inside her bedroll and tied to her backpack, Shiori scattered the remains of her fire. As D swung up into the saddle of his cyborg horse, he watched her, and had to admit that if he hadn’t seen the Tengu demon a moment before, he would have assumed she was one of the desert Mistico people.

By the time Shiori was finished, she no longer looked a Tengu demon, and there was no sign at all that there had been a camp there seconds earlier. She effortlessly hopped up onto the back of D’s horse, powerful calf muscles propelling her up onto the horse’s hindquarters. She land lightly on the horse’s back, causing the animal to twitch a curious ear as she settling in behind D’s saddle. “Thanks.”

D didn’t answer, nor did he look back at Shiori. He gently clucked his tongue and nudged the horse forward.

The horse obediently and easily wound through the same path it had taken to bring D to Shiori’s clearing, its hoof falls muffled by the springy earth and long, soft grass. It was so well trained that D did little to redirect it. His right hand grasped the reins lightly, and his irritable Left Hand, still smothered in its glove, rested on his muscled thigh.

Shiori was silent, perched easily on the horse’s back. Without needing to look back at her, D knew she was studying everything, calculating, memorizing.

Again, D wondered why a single Tengu demon was so close to a human town. Tengu demons hardly ever left their villages now, and if they did, it was always in groups.

Shiori appeared to be completely alone; D hadn’t noticed the scent of other Tengu demons in the clearing.

As they broke through the last of the trees and stepped onto the cracked pavement, D felt Shiori shift behind him. She slid in close against his back, draping her powerful legs on either side of the horse, sliding her hands through D’s arms, hooking one over his shoulder, and the other around his waist.

Arching an eyebrow, he glanced curiously back at her.

Shiori cocked her head, sunlight lancing off of her sunglasses. “Normal humans don’t have the sense of balance that Tengu do. It’d look strange if we rode through the center of town and I wasn’t worried about falling off.”

D said nothing, not even nodding in understanding. He turned his attention back to the road, watching as the constabulary loomed into view.

“You killed the vampires,” he said, raising his voice slightly over the sounds of traffic and people. “There was a reward for their elimination.”

To her credit, Shiori didn’t show any reaction, not straightening, or tightening her fingers on D’s body in surprise. “There was? Will you still be able to claim it?”

“By right, the money is yours.”

Shiori took a moment to answer. “I can’t claim that money, D. I don’t want to walk into the constable’s office and have him wonder who this stranger is.”

“I understand.” Without D needing to, the cyborg horse halted outside the jails. Shiori slid off of the horse’s flank, pretending to stagger slightly as she hit the ground. She looked up as D swung out of the saddle, his cape billowing and blocking out the sun.

D hit the ground steadily, his eyes meeting hers. “I would like to claim the reward money, and then give it to you, at a less hectic place.”

Hearing that, the Left Hand gave a muffled scream of denial.

Chuckling at the parasite’s exasperation, Shiori shrugged. “Well … thank you, D. You are very honorable. But, you were the one who was supposed to kill them. What if we split the money?”

The Left Hand liked that idea, and put up a racket. D had to clench his hand to silence it. “You may be the first person who has ever turned down money.”

Beneath her scarf, Shiori smiled. “I was taught to share.”

A slight smile pulled at D’s lips, and he inclined his head to Shiori. “Very well. We will split the reward.”

“Excellent. I’ll buy some supplies at the market, then meet you at the edge of town?”

The Left Hand was making so much noise that D could only suppose that the parasite was encouraging him to leave town without paying the Tengu. “Yes. I’ll meet you there.”

As D turned to walk into the constabulary, he heard the parasite moan in defeat.

The police officers inside the sun-bleached building did little to stop D from entering. In fact, most backed away, staring in nervous silence as he strode into the constable’s office, not bothering to knock.

The constable was at his desk, already in a heated argument with Joachim Murdoc. The muscled cyborg man loomed over the shorter constable, but he seemed to be having little effect on the man’s resolve.

In the corner, Joachim’s wife Ilona, tiny in comparison, lounged on a bench beside one of their hired trackers, a heavily tattooed man named West. Ilona fixed D with a hated glare, gnarling her otherwise flawless face. She didn’t speak, and West muttered something under his breath, pretending to be interested in staring out a window.

The mechanical left eye in Joachim’s skull whirred to life, sliding to the side of its socket to fix on D. D ignored it; Joachim had upgraded his artificial eye to detect differences in a demon’s physical appearance, or in the aura surrounding it. No demon, vampire, or werewolf could disguise itself and evade Joachim Murdoc’s eye. It was what made him such a successful hunter.

Growling, Joachim straightened to his full height, as tall as D--possibly taller, not that D cared. Joachim crossed his thick arms over the armor on his chest. “We’re having a discussion here, Dunpeal.”

“My apologies.” As he spoke, D withdrew the charms from his belt pouch, tossing the gold trinkets onto the blotter on the constable’s desk. “I have killed the last two vampires.”

At the window, West whirled around, shouting, “Son of a bitch!” as Ilona sat bolt right up with a cry of disbelief. Joachim’s sneer abruptly faded.

The constable ignored the bounty hunters’ shouts. The man picked the charms up in his hand, examining them closely. “Yep, Fabienne Yu and Peter Lindelof, that’s them.”

Joachim bit back a curse as the constable reached under his desk. D could hear the ticking of a combination lock as the constable opened a massive floor safe.

Counting out the coins, the constable poured the last of the reward money into a drawstring bag. Not raising his eyes to D’s, the constable tossed the bag at D. “There’s your reward.”

D caught the bag in mid-flight. He nodded once to the constable, then turned his back on the humans. As he walked out, he heard Joachim snarl, “You’d better watch your back, Dunpeal!”

D ignored him, and continued out into the sunlight.

*************

“I’ll kill that son of a bitch!”

“West, keep your voice down,” Ilona said irritably as she stepped out into the street. She narrowed her eyes in the bright light, watching as the Dunpeal led his horse to a saddle-maker’s shop. “The bastard can still hear us.”

Joachim’s shadow fell over her as he stepped up behind her, gripping her shoulders firmly with his cybernetic hands. “I’d like to tear that bastard limb from limb!”

Ilona sighed heavily; for the past two years it had been Joachim’s obsession to destroy the famous Dunpeal hunter. “The only good Dunpeal is a dead Dunpeal,” he’d say, “He’s half vampire, he can’t be trusted!”

Ilona had heartily agreed with her husband … up until she witnessed the Dunpeal’s skill with a sword. She had stood there in the street the first night she and her hunters were sent to kill the vampires, watching in open-mouth shock as the Dunpeal cleaved effortlessly through four of the monsters, sending the rest scrambling for safety. In two smooth sweeps, the Dunpeal had killed four vampires, while she had wounded only one.

She worried for Joachim. She loved her husband, and feared that despite his robotic transplants and his sheer strength, he didn’t have the speed or skill to match the Dunpeal. The bastard would cleave her husband in half. Ilona had tried to warn Joachim that night of what she saw, and Joachim was so furious at her “lack of faith” in him that they didn’t speak for almost two days.

Disgusted, West kicked at a rock. “I’m going back to the hotel,” he grumbled, turning away from Joachim and Ilona. “I’ll tell the guys--”

“Don’t rile them up!” Ilona warned as West slunk off. “The last thing we need is a damned showdown.”

West waved her words away and continued on up the street. When Ilona turned her eyes back across the road, the Dunpeal was nowhere to be seen.

Joachim’s thumbs gently pressed into the cords of her neck. “You okay honey? You’re so tense.”

Ilona sighed heavily again, closing her eyes as Joachim massaged her shoulders. “Just … pissed off, I guess. Disappointed.”

“I know.” Bending down to kiss her cheek, Joachim wrapped his arms around her, nearly swallowing her whole. It was his turn to sigh. “I’m pissed too. And I don’t want to get back to the hotel if they’re going to be all ripshit about the reward money. I don’t want to fight with them.”

Ilona nodded. “They’ll be looking for a fight.” She nuzzled Joachim’s cheek, the flesh part beneath the metal that held together the rest of his skull. “Let’s get a beer.”

“I can always count on you to say the right thing.” Forcing a tired smile, Joachim took Ilona’s little hand and led her across the street, to a tavern they had gotten fond of.

The tavern was just starting to fill up when they got inside. Joachim, with his massive height, was able to spot a table in a corner close to the bar, and pushed a path through the crowd for Ilona.

One of the bartenders recognized them right away and automatically brought over their favorite ale. Ilona ordered her lunch, while Joachim, as always, mused over the menu a bit longer.

As his human right eye perused the menu, his robotic left eye suddenly zoomed to the side, narrowing in on something at the bar.

“Huh?” Surprised, Ilona turned to look. She scanned the people at the bar, no noticing anything out of the ordinary. When she turned back to Joachim, he was staring steadily at the bar, his mouth set in a tight line.

With his chin, he pointed to the bar and said quietly, “There, Ilona. The woman in the white robe. See her?”

Not understanding, Ilona turned to look, picking out a figure halfway down the bar. It was dressed in a white robe and scarf, and heavy boots and gloves, a big pack on its back. It was talking with one of the bartenders, accepting a package of food or liquor, apparently asking questions.

“She looks like a Mistico,” Ilona whispered, though with the tavern this noisy, there was no way the robed figure could hear her. “What is she?”

Joachim paused, his red robotic eye focusing and unfocusing several times as he studied the woman at the bar.

Finally, he smiled. “It’s a Tengu demon.”

**************

No sooner did D strap on the new sword sheath onto his horse’s saddle did an explosion of shouts draw his attention up the street.

The Left Hand, now freed of its glove, groaned in disgust. “Not even here for an hour ….”

D looked up just in time to see a blur of white robes rocket out into the street, startling cyborg horses and causing cars and motorcycles to swerve wildly out of the way. Shiori dodged around the legs of a horse as Joachim and Ilona raced out of the tavern, shoving passer-by out of the way as they aimed their weapons for the Tengu demon.

D gritted his fangs and silently cursed; Joachim’s computerized eye must have seen past Shiori’s disguise. D should have warned her to watch out for the Murdocs!

“What’re you doing?!” the parasite cried as D swung up into the saddle, kicking his horse into a gallop. “Don’t go over there! She’s a ninja, let her handle it!”

The Left Hand continued to plead and howl as D’s horse vaulted cowering people and stalled cars. As he drew nearer to the tavern, D saw Ilona Murdoc in the doorway, turning to face him, her eyes widening for a moment as she raised her gun to aim at his head.

A black metal dart whistled through the air and slammed into the core of Ilona’s gun, causing the weapon to explode into flames in her hand. Ilona cried out in pain, and a horror-stricken Joachim wheeled around, quickly slapping out the fire on his wife’s clothing.

As the horse charged towards Shiori, D caught a glimpse of her arm, the white sleeve drawn back to reveal her black shinobi, and a pack of darts strapped to her wrist. Shiori broke into a run, racing alongside the horse and leaping easily up onto the animal’s back, her hand clapping down on D’s shoulder to steady herself as they raced out of town.

“Nice aim, kid!” the Left Hand said as they left the outraged Murdocs in the dust.

***************

As they traveled further from town, the longer the silence between D and the Tengu demon stretched. Behind D, Shiori sat backwards on the horse, her arm resting on one knee while her other leg dangled along the horse’s flank. She had loosened the white robes, and her white hair floated in a cloud as D guided the horse through a neglected road cutting through a field. Her half of the reward money clicked softly in her backpack, alongside the food she had stolen from the tavern when the bounty hunters attacked her.

D hadn’t said a word to her since they had first parted in front of the constabulary. He was in no mood for chatter. But he was nagged by questions. There was no reason for a young Tengu demon to be so far from her village, completely alone. She couldn’t possibly be on a mission, and she had risked revealing herself to the townspeople in order to get food--she was desperate. She was in trouble.

“What are you running from?” D finally asked, keeping his eyes set on the road ahead.

Behind him, Shiori turned in surprise, staring at the back of his head. “What?”

“Tengu demons don’t travel alone, even on missions.”

Shiori continued to stare at the back of D’s head, silent, as though gauging his seriousness. She finally heaved a sigh, turning back to watch the field roll past her.

“My village was destroyed a couple of weeks ago,” she said, an edge of exhaustion and bitterness cutting in her voice. “As far as I know, I’m the only survivor.”

That startled D, and he glanced back at her, though she didn’t turn to meet his eyes. “Your village was completely destroyed?”

Shiori nodded, his eyes hard and distant. “Matsumura. It’s far from here.”

“I haven’t heard of such an attack.”

“It’s not the first one,” Shiori said, a snarl rising in her throat. “Other Tengu villages have been wiped out too. We thought the first two were just rumors, but then we started losing contact with the villages near us …. We heard for months that an army of monsters was on the move, and that two vampires were leading them. They were gaki, cat-vampires, named Misako and Leander.”

The Left Han