Eternal Samurai (31 page)

Arisada kissed Nowaki once on the forehead and stepped to the heavy, wooden door. Suddenly, he spun back and caught the youth in a tight embrace. “
Aishite imasu,
” he whispered, then pressed his lips to the top of Nowaki’s head. The kiss became a benediction. Then the older Sōhei slipped into the cold night and was gone.

The lips of Nowaki’s rectum burned and his entrails ached, but it was worth the price. Through allowing that simple act of penetration, he had asserted his dominance over Arisada. For a single heartbeat, Arisada’s words of love—so intimate in their honesty—stilled Nowaki’s ambition. But only for a heartbeat.

Ever since that brutal night when bandits had destroyed his home and slaughtered his family, Nowaki had vowed never to be helpless. Only power over others would keep him safe. Now, he had it.

Shivering in the freezing night air, Nowaki rushed back to his tiny cell. He slipped off his muddy
geta
at the entrance and slid aside the door.

Clad only in his
fundoshi
, Hayato stood with regal expectation in the center of the room. He held his
katana
in his right hand, point forward. His armor and clothing lay folded in a neat pile at the foot of Nowaki’s sleeping mat.

“I’ve been waiting for you, my green-eyed
bishounen
.” The warrior removed his
fundoshi
. His semi-erect, dark cock dropped low between his furred thighs.

With swift, eager motions, Nowaki discarded his clothing. Naked, he dropped to his knees, forehead pressing onto the
tatami
. His hands spread his buttocks, offering his dark sphincter in an invitation to his new Lord’s rod.

Nowaki spared no thought for his temple, for Arisada or for his own honor. When this night was done, Nowaki would have access to the power and status he craved.

The Seattle Quarantine, 2024

The cell phone’s piercing ring jarred Tatsu out of his daze. His asshole hurt and his chute pulsed as if recently fucked. Cum smeared his crotch and thighs. Judging by the size of the mess, he’d ejaculated more than once. And still his cock throbbed hard with a painful want.

The demanding ring continued. With a groan, he looked around. A modern living room—not some tiny freezing cell in a Buddhist monastery—swam into wavering view through the pounding headache from his self-pitying indulgence in alcohol.

He hauled himself up on numb legs, staggered over to the table and groped for the cell. Managed to fumble it open and stared at the screen. If the Red Alert hadn’t burned through the fog clouding his brain, the needle-sharp spasms shooting up his legs sure as hell did.

“
Moshi, moshi
. Cobb here,” he mumbled past a thick tongue. Gods, he hope he didn’t sound as fucked up as he felt.

“Mr. Cobb?” Cooperhayes’ flat tone crackled from the tiny speaker. “On the double if you please.”

“
Hai, hai
, on my way.”

Stupidly, Tatsu looked around, still holding the cell. Wind and rain blew into the room, leaving a puddle on the floor.
Jigoku
, he’d he had left the damn window open again. He slammed it shut then leaned his forehead against the cold glass. His face burned as if with a fever.

The sketchpad lay on the floor beside the chair. Tatsu scooped it up on the way to his bedroom. Right before he reached his closet, he stalled out and stared at the image.

The drawing was simple, just the head and torso of a young man—a youth really—turning to look over his shoulder. A
naginata
rested over one bare shoulder. Clouds of thick smoke boiled above his shaven head. Remorse marred the beauty of his face.

Koji Nowaki.

Fear shivered through Tatsu at the undeniability of the dream. The truth slammed into his gut. He’d experienced every moment—every exquisite touch, every scent, every taste—between Nowaki and Arisada.

With utter conviction, Tatsu knew that he was the betrayer of Arisada and the Mii-dera Sōhei. He was truly Nowaki’s reincarnation.

“
Ojii-san
, I understand now. There is so much more to my debt than family honor,” he whispered. He now knew he was in this life to remove the bloody stain of
uragirimono
from the soul of Koji Nowaki.

.

Seventeen

H
is new insight brought Tatsu little peace. Time after time, he jerked awake, his heart thundering in his chest, his body drenched in sweat. Nightmares filled with moans, screams of lust and pain, smells of blood and shit, demented laughter and mocking words plagued him. Bana morphed into a blood-drenched Sage who begged Tatsu to kill him. Distorted images of Nowaki blurred into Arisada, face distorted with hate, as his engorged red cock took Tatsu in the ass before the vampire’s fangs ripped out his throat.

The meaning of those dreams was so clear—he’d failed Bana. Only a few days ago, Fornax had reported that the Irishman was fast becoming one of the most vicious vampires in Tendai. The single time Fornax approached, Bana blindly attacked him.

“It’s to be expected. Like all newly turned, Bana’s memories of his human life affect his vampire instincts,” Fornax explained. “He was always an angry man. That anger is now exacerbated by his
kyūketsuki
nature. Still, despite the danger he poses to us all, I do not want to be forced to kill him.”

Major Blenheim, ever the realist, stated it was only a matter of time before the identity of the Lepers was uncovered. Keeping the Colony’s location a secret was not worth taking Bana’s life. “Leave him be.” he said. “I have faith that Mr. Murtagh’s human integrity will win out, what?”

Tatsu was unable to accept the Major’s faith. Several times, Tatsu sneaked into Tendai, telling himself he was searching for his lost partner. Hoping he’d find Arisada. He questioned some of the indentured living in the Alki compound but received only guarded stares or outright hostility.

Then Fornax caught him. “You can do nothing. Now leave, boy.” Yet the vampire did not report the incident to the Major.

Tatsu tried convincing himself he needed the
kyūketsuki
’s help. Knew his reason was bullshit. What he wanted was one more chance to look into those golden eyes. One more feel of those arms around him, those lips on his, that mouth around his cock. Hear Arisada call him
koibito
.

Feeling as stupid as a lovesick teenager, Tatsu dialed Arisada’s number just as he’d dialed every night for past two weeks. Always the same—no answer.

By the great god Hachiman, this craziness had to stop. Tatsu had to talk to someone. Only one person he trusted. He prayed the man considered they had enough of a friendship to listen to his secret without judgment. If not, Tatsu would face the consequences, no matter what.

He punched the numbers without listening for a dial tone. Felt a wash of relief at the sleepy voice at the other end. “
Gomen nasai
, sorry to interrupt you but can you meet me before work? Got to run something past you?” He let Galloway believe he needed to talk about Bana.

That evening when Tatsu entered the armory, he found Galloway hunched over trays of dies for large-caliber bullets. Boxes of brass cases flanked two sets of scales. The far end of the workbench was ladened with green ammo bins filled with new incendiaries. The bullets reminded Tatsu of Bana who always used them in his precious Berettas.

“Why so many incendiaries?” Tatsu asked as he unbuckled his harness and dropped it on the table. He spun his chair around and straddled it.

“Where’s your head been? Didn’t you hear about the major operation coming up? Chain just left. Been cranking out bolts all day.” Galloway looked up. Tatsu’s honey-colored face was pale and covered with a fine sheen of sweat despite the chill of the room. He noticed how the kid’s eyes skittered about, landing everywhere except on him.

“Hey, Ninja Boy, lighten up. I mean you elevate brooding to an art.” Galloway focused on measuring the cordite. Decided to try a different conversation track when no response came from the too-edgy Tatsu. “Meet any of the Snake Eaters yet?” The Chicago Leper team had arrived yesterday, bringing with them their vehicles and enough armament to win a war.

Tatsu shook his head, mop of hair flying, but at least looked directly at Galloway. “Do you know any of them?”

“Yeah, a couple. They’re all mean motherfuckers. You gotta be that way to survive in that city.” A tightness around Galloway’s eyes cast a harshness over his handsome face.

Tatsu fumbled his cigarettes out of his pocket, pulled one out with his lips. He flicked open his lighter. Then realized he was sitting beside an open canister of cordite. “
Chikusho
!”

“Shit is right, Cobb. Dump the smokes. You wanna blow up the whole damn building, mess up my gorgeous face and piss off the Major?” Galloway watched Tatsu, looking stunned at his own stupidity, tossed the unlit cigarette into the trashcan and pocketed the lighter.

“How about clueing me in before you send us both to a fiery hell?” The blond continued his painstaking task during the five minutes of silence that stretched like an eternity between them.

“Sorry about the smoking. By Hachiman, I must be
baka
. Got things on my mind, I guess.” Shit, more than
things,
more like a crazy-in-lust-for-a-certain-vampire thing.

“Dunno from Hachiman, but you’re
baka
alright. You still blaming yourself for what happened to Murtagh?” Galloway no longer called him ‘Mick’. “Nothing you could have done. Nothing anyone could have done. Hell, it could be any one of us, at any time, even you. Gotta accept that.”

“
Hai.
Turning like that was horrible. But then I couldn’t stop him from going into Tendai. Couldn’t catch him and bring him back here for help. Keep having nightmares about it. Like he’s calling for us to get him out of some sort of box, and just when we reach him, he starts screaming like he’s in agony, and we jerk open the box only we forgot it was daylight, and we burn him up.” Misery etched deep lines in Tatsu’s face.

“Holy Christ, Tatsu. Let it go. For what it’s worth, we’ve lost four others like that since I joined the Colony.”

“
Â, sō desu ka
. I just feel so guilty.”

“Nothing to be guilty about. Still, no matter what others say, losing someone never leaves you. Worse if you’re close. And as a team, we are. Most of us, that’s all we’ve got.” Galloway’s voice turned gravelly. “I know more than I want about guilt. How it can eat you alive. It was my fault my lover Bryan died.”

“Your fault? How?”

“I killed him.”

Tatsu stared in horror at Galloway, shocked as much by the reply as by its flat, clinical utterance.

“Bryan was incredibly talented but he’d only done theater. I leaned on a couple of producers to give him the lead in this movie on location near the Detroit Quarantine. Wanted realism, even hired vampires to be extras. Fucking insane idea. Next thing, he’s been bitten by a bloodsucker. He survived, came home to me in California. We thought he was gonna be fine.”

His eyes turned cobalt-dark with pain. “When he turned, he slaughtered half his family. I thought he was a monster. I tracked him here. By then he was out of the animal stage, swore he still loved me. When I told him vampires can’t love, he attacked me. I shot him The Major found me, saved me from eating my gun.”

Tatsu floundered for a suitable reply. “
Gomen nasai
. How long were you together?”

“Five amazing years. We met right after I came out.”

“When did you know you loved him?” Tatsu flushed. He felt rude prying into a deep and painful part of another person’s life yet sensed the other man wanted to talk.

Galloway sighed but his look said he was okay with the question. “First time we fucked, I knew we were meant for each other. No hesitation. Bryan knew it too. Sometimes it happens that way, it’s more than just sex, something deeper between the two of you and … and you just know.” The shimmer of unshed tears told it all. “I was convinced there’s never be another. Until—”

“You fell in love with your partner?”

“Yeah, blindsided by the oldest gay cliché of ’em all, falling for a straight man. But fuck, who the hell ever understands love?”

Hai, hai
, who understood love? But maybe Galloway would at least sympathize with Tatsu’s utterly, incomprehensible dick-twitching, ass-throbbing desire for a vampire. He drew in a deep, unsteady breath. “Do you think love can really exist between human and vampire?”

“Why the fuck are you asking me?”

“Because you know, you…”

“My boyfriend turned bloodsucker and still said he loved me? I couldn’t accept it.” Galloway skewered him with a sharp look. “Where are you going with this, Cobb?”

Tatsu gulped through a throat gone dry as the desert. Too late, he was not
going
anywhere, he was already there—hot and hard and crazy for someone insanely wrong. And about to share the secret with a killer elite who would slay Arisada if the opportunity presented itself.

“I ain’t got all day, Cobb.”

Tatsu’s instinct was to lie, to find some quick meaningless excuse for his questions. He swallowed hard, realized his face looked guilty as sin. His eyes locked onto Galloway’s, and he knew nothing but the truth would suffice. This may be the only guy who could help him figure out this insanity.

The lump that was I-let-a-vampire-blow-my-cock stuck in his throat. The bigger, heart-skipping confession that he was in love with that same vampire, stayed lodged in his heart.

“I’ve met this person that I might be in love with.”

“Might be? What the hell, Ninja Boy, can’t believe you’ve never been in love before.”

“Yes! Once.” In a dragging whisper, Tatsu told about Sage. “I knew I was in love with him years before we um … ah.”

“Fucked,” Galloway interjected with a slight smirk. “If you’re gonna do it, you better be able to say it.”

“Yes,
wakatta
. Fucked! We were only together for one week. After he left, I looked for him for years. His grandmother said if he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be.” The moisture filming his eyes filled him with shame.

“We never forget our first love. Bet he was the top ’cause you are one, tasty looking bottom. Can always tell.”