Tag: M/M Romance

  • The Reluctant Consort – 1

    Chapter 1

    In a time of prosperity, four kingdoms came together and formed an empire.

    The great Kaveh Miran, an accomplished general from Silver Nation, led the great political alliance that made Sun Kingdom, Iron Land, Blood Nation and Silver Kingdom into one.  A great alliance that became known as The Akasha Empire.

    By joint decision, the kings of each nation named Kaveh Miran the Emperor of Akasha, making him and his family responsible for keeping the peace between nations and ensuring a long-standing empire.  Kaveh accepted the mandate and built an imperial city in the middle of the Akasha Empire.  Making it easy for any nation to approach his palace for assistance as needed. The Miran Family would then take on the duty of protecting and serving all in need.

    Akasha was abundant with resources: cultivating land, minerals, food, and water.  What they did not have they made up for by trading with neighboring countries.  Merchants in Akasha grew prosperous businesses, and rose to fortune and fame in a glorious era known as The Miran Era.

    When Kaveh Miran grew tired, he left the care of the empire to his three children: Kiyan, Kastan and Kyra.

    Kiyan became Emperor of Akasha, Kastan a Prince of Akasha, while Kyra married a foreign king to strengthen Akasha’s allies and became Queen of Tanad, moving to the North of Akasha.

    Of all his children, Kaveh Miran had always thought Kastan as the strongest.

    For that same reason, Emperor Kiyan made Prince Kastan the commander of Akasha’s army.

    Kastan took on the role of protector of the Akasha Empire, and lived his life for the safety and care of the empire and its people.  When he turned twenty, he too married a princess from Blood Nation to strengthen the royal family’s ties.

    For this marriage, Kaveh granted Kastan a Dukedom in the middle of a lush valley named Silver Shore.  Kastan took his new wife to live at Silver Shore, glad to escape the many pressures of the Akasha Palace.

    Princess Jian was two years younger than Kastan.  She was beautiful and reconciled to her fate.  She married Kastan out of duty.  Their marriage was a mutual alliance and when she got pregnant, they were both happy that their new home would have an heir to carry on their lineage.

    Kastan did not count on his wife being too delicate to give birth.

    He certainly did not think that Jian would die in childbirth and leave him responsible for a newborn son.  The night Jian died, Prince Kastan held his newborn son in his arms and promised himself that he would never allow another weak partner near him.

    *~*~*

    Ten years after Jian’s death, Prince Kastan had established Silver Shore as his permanent home, choosing to visit the Imperial Palace when it was necessary.  His reasons deeply tied to his ten-year-old son, Rashan.

    Silver Shore was a lush valley surrounded by rolling hills, green fields, wild forests and a stunning silver river that flowed through the valley heading to the ocean.  Under Prince Kastan’s care, the people living in the valley prospered, and Silver Shore became a coveted utopia.

    It was an unattainable utopia, as most of Silver Shore’s residents were family members of Prince Kastan’s core army.  These families turned Silver Shore into both fortress and paradise for those who were lucky to call it home.  These men and women who lived within the valley protected it with fierce devotion.  Until it had became prestigious to marry into a family living in Silver Shore, or to meet one who called Silver Shore home.

    Silver Shore residents treasured Kastan and affectionately called him Duke Silver, a nickname started by his best friend and right hand man, Temu.

    The people also spoiled Kastan’s son, Rashan, calling him Little Prince when he ran around in town with his nanny and guardian.  Kastan was grateful for the residents of Silver Shore as their devotion added a layer of protection for his most precious son.  No one would dare touch Rashan at Silver Shore.

    Kastan’s manor, which stood in the most secure part of the valley, was called Sun-filled Manor.  Kastan’s father had named it when he came to visit and discovered that the morning sun filled the halls without prejudice.  Kaveh Miran decided the name Sun-Filled suited the manor, and deemed it a perfect home for his grandson, Rashan.

    Kastan and his son called Sun-filled Manor home.  They lived with Kastan’s three loyal friends, Temu, Safan and Naveed.  There was also Rashan’s nanny, Fara, and Yasmin, the housekeeper who managed all of Sun-filled Manor.

    At the start of Rashan’s eleventh year, seven people stood in an open field that led to a cliff behind the manor releasing lanterns to the sky.

    Kastan watched his son carefully hold his lantern, and then send it up to the sky.  The higher it rose, the wider Rashan smiled.  When his son closed his eyes to make his wish, Kastan stepped closer to listen in.

    Rashan always spoke aloud on his wishes, hoping his father would hear them and help make them come true.

    This year was different.

    Kastan frowned when Rashan decided to murmur his wishes with a sense of fervor this year.

    “Please make my wish come true this year,” Rashan murmured.  “I’ve asked so many times already.  You have to fulfill it this year, please.”

    Kastan’s frowned deepened.  He was sure he had done his best to fulfill all of Rashan’s wishes the past year.  From giving him a black horse like his father’s, to redoing the east wing of Sun-Filled Manor to accommodate Rashan’s sword training, he had done it all.

    Why was this kid still making a desperate wish this year too?

    This wasn’t the first time he had heard this murmur, Kastan thought.  He remembered the same hushed tone when Rashan turned nine.  It disappeared when Rashan turned ten, but now it was back in his eleventh year.

    Curious, Kastan placed a gentle hand on Rashan’s right shoulder making his son look up at him.

    “Shan, is there something you want that you don’t have?” Kastan asked, sure that his son was not missing anything material.

    He worked hard to make sure that Rashan had everything he needed.

    Rashan bit his bottom lip, worrying it a bit, before he shook his head, no.

    Kastan lifted his right brow in question, and his heart squeezed when Rashan smiled at him.

    “Fara told me that this little wish of mine must be granted by a higher power.  Even if the people call you the god of war, my wish can only be heard by the god of fate,” Rashan said, dropping his hands to his sides.  “Fara said I must be pure in my wish for it to come true, otherwise he won’t hear my prayer.”

    Kastan glanced at Fara who was standing with Yasmin as they watched the lanterns float into the night sky.  This was a good start of the year, and he had promised them a bonus envelope to take to their families.  They looked happy.  He was glad for it as they took care of his most precious person. 

    Kastan wondered if Fara knew what Rashan’s wish was, his frown deepened when he remembered she liked to keep his son’s confidence.  Meaning, if Rashan wanted a secret kept, she was more than willing to help Rashan.  The only exception was if the secret was one that could harm Rashan, then she was the first to run to Kastan’s study.

    Since Fara had not told him this secret, it was not harmful to Rashan, but…

    “Rashan, remember what I’ve said before.  We must make our own way, our own path,” Kastan felt compelled to say.  “You must state what you want to get, and set your mind to getting it.  This is how the world works.  One must not leave anything to chance.”

    “Fara said that would be your answer,” Rashan said with a thoughtful nod.

    A few minutes passed in silence.  They both looked up at the sky watching the lanterns float away, lighting the dark night.  Then Rashan took Kastan’s left hand, his small hands wrapping around Kastan’s much larger one.

    “When I’m sure it can come true, I’ll tell you, Pa.”

    Kastan crouched low to his son’s height, and brought the hands holding his left one to his lips.

    “I’ll look forward to it, Shan,” Kastan said with a small grin, eager to discover what wish his son kept so close to his heart.  “Now, are you ready for the new year’s dinner?  Why don’t we go inside and discover what Yasmin’s made for dinner.”

    “She spent the whole day cooking,” Rashan said, excitement filling his cheeks with color.  He squeezed Kastan’s hand tight, before he rushed off to Yasmin’s side, declaring his hunger.

    Yasmin and Fara each took one of Rashan’s hands and started in the direction of the manor, their pace unhurried.  Kastan watched them, smiling as they talked about the colorful moon cakes Fara made, roasted chicken, lotus root soup, the list seemed endless.

    Kastan straightened to his full height when the trio entered the kitchen using the back door.  He turned to look up at the lanterns, which had travelled a distance away.  He was conscious of the three men he trusted with his life moving to stand on each side of him.

    “Your Grace,” Temu spoke first, standing on Kastan’s right.  “When will you respond to the summons from Emperor Kiyan?”

    “After the new year’s celebrations end,” Kastan answered with a heavy sigh.  He folded his hands behind his back, dragging his gaze away from his son’s lantern to the rest of the valley sprawled before him.

    The night filled with lanterns released by hopeful souls living in Silver Shore.  The streets were alight, celebrations taking over the main square in town.  The sound of joyful music echoed in the air.  His people were happy and in peace.

    Kastan hated to break the spell with foreboding.

    “None of them will fault you,” Naveed said from Kastan’s left, answering his thoughts.  “We are all content with the path we’ve chosen.  Silver Shore has enjoyed five years of peace because of your staunch support, Your Grace.  The Akasha Empire is our home too.  We shall fight with you to guard what we’ve all built together these last five years.”

    Kastan looked at Naveed’s profile.

    Naveed was the most sentimental one of the three while Darian was more quick to anger and action.

    “War is not confirmed, yet,” Kastan reminded Temu and Naveed.

    He wasn’t ready to think of war just yet.

    “I’m only answering summons from my Emperor Brother.  He could be asking for a peacekeeping tour.  The problems at West Nation’s border are all solvable with a competent diplomat.”

    “The palace is full of conspiring politicians,” Safan said, the third and most important man in the trio said.  “A summons reaching Silver Shore means one of those old men has aggravated relations at the west border and forced the Emperor and Tanad Kingdom into a tight corner.  Whether it is peacekeeping or war, you’ll need to be cautious, Your Grace.”

    “You are all right,” Kastan said, after a minute of thought.

    His oldest brother tried to keep direct summons to a minimum.  Kastan appreciated that as it meant that he managed all armies at will.  Every turn of the moon, Kastan made an appearance at the palace where he met his brother, and discussed any pressing problems in the different provinces.  They managed an amiable working relationship.

    Summons were scattered, Kastan disliked them as they meant an extended stay at the palace.  He did not like the idea of leaving Rashan alone at Silver Shore.  Worse, he never wanted to entertain the idea of Rashan moving into the palace.  That thought made him shudder.

    “Whatever the order, the outcome cannot change,” Kastan murmured.  “Silver Shore stays intact and protected.”

    “Yes, Your Grace,” they all agreed.

    Kastan smiled this time, his lips curving wider.  He was glad that he never had to worry about these three.  They made the mess in the palace easier to face.

    “Duke Silver,” Temu said, his tone teasing.  “I have a serious craving for Yasmin’s roasted chicken.  The lanterns won’t return now.  We’ve set them free; they’ll land where they will.  Why don’t we head back to the house to eat?”

    Kastan had yet to thank Temu for the interesting nickname that had spread through the valley like wildfire.

    “Who has stopped you from racing to the kitchen?” Kastan asked.

    “Duke Silver no one dares eat while you’re standing out here staring at the sky with that mournful look,” Naveed said.

    Safan moved around Naveed and came to wrap an arm around Safan’s shoulders.  He was a hulk of a man, with bulging muscles gained from his love of using a hammer and axe in battle and in the homestead.

    Safan turned Kastan around with a simple squeeze and led Kastan toward the house, launching into a tale about Rashan breaking into the chicken coop earlier in the afternoon.

    Kastan loved listening to Safan’s tales about Rashan.  He loved it more that Safan managed to dispel the anxiety growing from their coming uncertain future.  His message clear: enjoy the quiet and peace for now.

    ~*~*~*~

    Three days after the New Year’s celebrations ended, Kastan rode his black warhorse into the capital, wearing his colors.  His silver coat decorated with embroidery to fit his station and a blood red cape cascading down his back with a black tiger crest right in the middle.  It was the symbol of his army.

    Temu and Naveed followed Kastan close, the thundering hooves of three black warhorses cleared the road faster than any shout from the street officers.  People moved to the side when they saw them racing down the streets of the Imperial City Akan.

    Kastan paid them no mind, and did not slow down until he saw the large black gates of the Akan palace ahead.  Slowing down the pace of his horse, he watched the gates slowly start to open; the soldiers guarding the gates all formed a neat line on each side of the palace gates, their black uniform with gold embroidery matching.  They saluted Kastan as he rode through the open gates into the Akasha Imperial Palace.

    Kastan led his horse to the foot of the series of stairs that led to the front doors of the palace’s greeting hall.  A man’s luck depended on what he found at the top of the stairs.  It could be a cool reception, a warm greeting, or nothing, at the extreme one found death at the end of a sword.

    Kastan walked up the stairs with a sense of nostalgia.  He grew up in this palace, running up these steps with his sister and brother.  As he turned ten, his interests turned to the extensive training grounds beyond the main palace where learned to wield a sword the right way.

    His training master insisted he learn how to use all weapons in the palace’s arsenal.  The challenge was welcome and with it, his thirst for adventure.  The solid walls around the palace started to feel stifling, and he longed for a life outside the Imperial City.  Everything he had done since he turned twenty and married Jian was to gain independence to live outside the palace.  He dared not imagine the idea of returning into this opulent cold palace.  Silver Shore was far more comfortable compared to this place.

    “We have a reception,” Naveed murmured, his instinct for danger alive and at work.  “I count five people.”

    Kastan nodded and finished the last set of stairs, his senses alert.  Standing ten steps away was his brother, Kiyan, and his sister, Kyra: an Emperor and a Queen.  Behind them were two of Kiyan’s aides and Kyra’s shadow guard, Sanin.

    Kastan did not slow his steps, but Naveed and Temu did, stopping right by the stairs. 

    “Kas,” Kyra said, racing to him without a care for decorum.

    Kastan braced himself as she launched herself into his arms.  He lifted her up and turned around on the spot, pleased to see her so well.  He missed her dearly.

    “Kyra,” Kastan kissed her cheek when he set her on her feet.

    She was beautiful in a moss green silk dress cinched at her waist with a wide gold belt, with long sleeves and its long skirts sweeping the floor.  Her long dark hair fell down her back to her waist, with intricate gold leaves keeping it in check.  She looked every bit a queen.

    “You grow more beautiful with time.”

    “I would say the same, Kas,” Kyra said, reaching up with her left hand to caress his right eyebrow and the scar there.  “This still makes you look dashing.  How many hearts have you broken since I last saw you?”

    “None,” Kastan said.

    “That can only mean countless,” Kyra said with a laugh, as she took his right hand, and led him to their Emperor brother.  “Kiyan, why do you restrain yourself when you’re as glad to see Kas as I am?”

    “He is commander of armies, not to be jumped on at will,” Kiyan said when they reached him.

    Still, Kiyan stepped closer and pulled Kastan into a tight hug.  Kastan held his brother, relieved his siblings were in good spirits.

    Kiyan let him go, reaching out to arrange Kastan’s red cape with a small smile.  He looked around Kastan, taking in Naveed and Temu who bowed in greeting, still his gaze remained searching.

    “Rashan?” Kiyan asked after a minute.

    “With Safan at Silver Shore,” Kastan answered, noting the quick wave of disappointment that flashed over both Kyra and Kiyan’s gazes.  “We needed to ride fast.  The journey would have been taxing for him.”

    “I miss him,” Kyra complained.  “I last saw him when he turned ten.  It was his birthday a few days ago.  I wanted to give him a gift.”

    “You’re welcome to Silver Shore at any time.  You could send the gifts to him too,” Kastan said.  “You must visit Silver Shore before you return to Tanad, Kyra.”

    “What about me?” Kiyan asked.  “Must I leave the palace to visit my nephew too?”

    Kastan sighed.  His Emperor was unhappy about his choice to keep Rashan away from palace life.  That much was obvious.  Still, Rashan adored both Kiyan and Kyra. 

    “I will make arrangements for him to make a short visit soon,” Kastan said, though he sounded reluctant even to his ears.

    Kyra glanced at Kiyan, before she tucked her hand in the crook of Kastan’s left arm.

    “Come in, Kastan,” Kyra suggested.  “I made sure there was plenty of food and drink ready for when you arrived.  Your men can follow us and we’ll get them settled for the night.”

    Kastan turned and nodded to Naveed and Temu who followed them.

    “Thank you for answering my summons so soon,” Kiyan said as they went down a long hallway.  “I imagined you might be delayed for a week or so.”

    “I always come when you ask,” Kastan reminded his brother.

    “You’re the only one I can count on,” Kiyan said, his tone enough to make Kastan pause. 

    Kiyan was the most powerful man in the empire.  He should fear nothing, especially with Kastan by his side.  Still, an Emperor had more worries keeping him awake.

    “Kastan, can you trust me with Rashan?  It’s dangerous to leave him alone at Silver Shore.”

    Kyra squeezed Kastan’s arm, and he caught her censoring gaze when he looked at her.  She wanted him to take it easy with Kiyan.

    “Your Majesty’s offer is hard to ignore,” Kastan said.  “I’m afraid I would have to wait to give you an answer.  Your servant is weak when it comes to his son.  I can’t force him to do anything.”

    “Aren’t you being too nice a parent?” Kiyan asked, leading the way into an elegant greeting room with tables laden with food and drink.

    “I still have a lot to learn,” Kastan answered, noting that the servants moved in silent coordination leaving the room and closing the doors tight.  “Is the Empress not joining us?”

    “She is occupied with our sons,” Kiyan said, indicating for them to take seats at the largest dining table.  “Besides, what I want to discuss concerns the empire.”

    Kyra sat directly across him on Kiyan’s right, while Kastan and his men took the left side. Kastan waited for Temu and Naveed to settle beside him before he pulled out his chair and sat. 

    Kyra and Kiyan allowed Kastan and his men to eat and drink in silence for a few minutes.

    Kiyan was the one to break the silence first.

    “Kastan,” Kiyan said, making Kastan look.

    Kiyan watched him with a somber gaze.  Guilt bloomed in his gaze and Kastan looked away, sipping his wine, unable to take that guilt.

    “West Nation has become a problem,” Kastan said, bringing up the topic on his brother’s behalf.  “All your attempts at negotiation must have failed.”

    “So you already understand the situation,” Kiyan said with a heavy sigh.  “West Nation is matching on our border.  All attempts at reaching an amiable agreement have dissolved.  They sent me the head of the last envoy I sent to them.  All because they want the iron mines at Mount Kin.”

    Mount Kin spanned the length of Akasha’s west border with West Nation.  The mountain was in Akasha land, and the people living at the foot of the mountain were skilled metal forgers.  They mined iron from the mountain caves and were a huge source of income for the land.  The Emperor would need to respond with force on any aggressive move against Mount Kin.

    Kastan met his brother’s gaze.

    “Say it,” Kastan said giving his brother an assuring nod.

    “Are you sure you will not send Rashan to stay with us in the palace?” Kiyan asked instead.  “He is important to us, as much as he is to you, Kas.”

    “Rashan is happiest at Silver Shore,” Kastan said, noting the flash of disappointment in his brother’s gaze.

    “Then, Commander,” Kiyan said, his tone hard.  “Akasha is at war with West Nation.  I’m leaving the west border to you.”

    Kastan placed his goblet on the table and gave his brother a single nod in answer.  He knew his brother would repeat this same order before the royal court tomorrow morning.

    Kastan turned to Naveed and Temu.  He gave them a short nod and they both got up from the table, excusing themselves.  They headed out to start discrete preparations.

    “This war is on two fronts,” Kiyan said, lowering his voice once Kastan’s men left the room.  “One shall be fought at court, dealing with the Minister of Trade and the Empress’s father, the other by you, at the border.”

    “I have pledged my Queen’s Army to you,” Kyra said, her gaze on Kastan.  “You’ll need all the support you can get.”

    Kastan pushed his food away, and concentrated on understanding the plot at court that had lead them to war.

    *~*~*~*

    Prologue

  • The Morgan Lore – 8

    New Year’s Blessings in a Syringe

    “Are you still angry with me?” Kiyo asked, his gaze on the machines on a stand beside the lounge chair Milan was using.

    Milan stared at the IV line going into the back of his left hand, his heavy black sweater pulled back to make sure it didn’t interfere, and let out a soft sigh.

    “I don’t know why I couldn’t have done this tomorrow. I really wanted to go to the party with Mamma. It would have been nice to meet everyone before I went to school. Don’t you think it’s unfair?”

    “You have school tomorrow and your health comes first,” Kiyo insisted, satisfied with the numbers he was reading. He perched on a stool and took Milan’s free hand. “I know you hate shots every other day. So, I’ve worked to make this process easier for you. If we complete this therapy today, we won’t need to do it again for four weeks.”

    Milan dropped his gaze to where his father held his hand.

    “Papa, are you happier here?” Milan asked.

    “I’m more productive here,” Kiyo said, after a moment of silence. He reached out to raise Milan’s face to him. Milan met brown eyes similar to his. “Are you not happy?”

    “It’s cold all the time. I can’t go out like in Turin. I don’t know if I’ll like any of the people here. Can’t we go back home?” Milan asked.

    He could only complain to Kiyo, seeing as he knew Ilaria and Ayu were also adjusting to a new life here. They were trying their best to make him comfortable.

    Cucciolo, this is our new home,” Kiyo said, stroking Milan’s cheek. “I signed a contract to stay here for three years.”

    “Three—”

    Milan broke off upset, though he didn’t understand why. Then it clicked in a wave. He felt lonely here. The task of facing new people seemed too big, too exhausting. He missed Turin’s old world charm, and warmth. The neighbors who knew him by name, and dropped by to see him on days he had to stay in like today.

    “I might find a cure for you here,” Kiyo said, his excitement tangible.

    “I’m not curable,” Milan scoffed, shaking his head. “I have a chronic condition, Papa. One I need to manage for life. You know the science of it better than me. There is no cure.”

    Kiyo squeezed Milan’s fingers and let go, folding his arms against his chest.

    “You’re upset, Milan. You were excited to go today, and I came in with this, I know. You want to take it out on me, that’s fine. I can take all your anger, but don’t ever lose hope on me.”

    Milan closed his eyes, the headache that came with these infusions already starting.

    “How do you feel?” Kiyo asked, getting up to press his palm on Milan’s forehead.

    “The usual,” Milan said, wanting to curl into a ball on the comfortable lounge chair. “How much longer?”

    “Thirty minutes,” Kiyo said. “The pain meds I gave you before we started should help with the headache. I’ll slow the drips down though, and turn on the humidifier.”

    Kiyo looked around the room with a frown.

    “Damn it, I left the humidifier in my lab after configuring it. I’ll go get it. Will you be okay alone? I can send Marie to stay with you.”

    “I’ll be fine,” Milan murmured, shifting on the lounge chair to stare out the wide windows to the gazebo.

    “Okay, I’ll be right back.” Kiyo kissed Milan’s forehead, pushing back strands of damp hair from Milan’s forehead with a gentle caress. “Don’t go anywhere.”

    Milan chuckled watching his father hurry out. His gaze returned to the infusion pump and the IV line going into the back of his left hand. The time counter read thirty-six minutes remaining, he let out a sigh.

    Siri, turn on TV,” he said, smiling when the screen on the opposite wall came on. “Let’s watch Black Butler on Crunchyroll.”

    Milan was lost in Sebastian and Ciel when Marie came hurrying into the lounge holding a pie dish. She looked flustered, which was rare, Milan sat up with a frown.

    “You have a visitor.”

    “Me?”

    “Yep,” Marie held up the pie pan. “I would give you this, but your father would have my head. I’ll force your visitor to wear a mask as he comes in. He says he won’t leave and must see you with his own eyes.”

    “How strange,” Milan said.

    “He says he saw your pretty face at the grocery store yesterday,” Marie chuckled. “It must be amore a prima vista.” Love at first sight.

    “Marie!” Milan gaped at her as she hurried away laughing.

    Milan sat on the lounge chair waiting.

    A minute later, Rory Morgan appeared at the lounge door, the white mask on his face looking out of place. He looked…vibrant with energy.

    “Hi,” Rory said, lifting his hand in greeting, not moving from the entrance.

    Milan pulled his sweater down to cover the IV line going into his hand.

    “Hi,” Milan said, staring.

    Rory looked good in a white t-shirt and jeans, his hair dark wild on his head. He wore no sweater, as though the cold weather did not bother him.

    Rory reached up and adjusted the mask over his nose and mouth.

    “How are you?” Rory asked, his blue gaze intense.

    Milan blinked, fighting the urge to scream. This was not how he would have wanted to meet Rory Morgan again.

    “I’m fine. My family is paranoid about keeping the house sterile,” Milan said. “I’m sorry you have to wear that. It’s because Marie doesn’t know you.”

    To be truthful, Milan didn’t know Rory either, other than meeting him in a grocery store, and Rory finding sparkling wine bottles for him.

    “Uh, please come in.” Milan waved his free hand to the chair next to the one he was using. “I’m sorry I can’t get up to greet you.”

    Rory nodded and walked into the room, his steps deliberately slow as he closed the distance between them. When Rory sat down, Milan took in a deep breath hoping to ease his racing heart.

    Milan adjusted his sweater over the IV line again. His right hand in a fist, as he settled back on the lounge chair. He cleared his throat, reaching for the remote on the table to lower the volume on the television.

    “H-how come you’re here?” Milan asked, meeting Rory’s gaze.

    “I missed you at the party in town,” Rory said. “You promised to be there.”

    “I couldn’t make it.”

    “So, I came to find you.”

    Milan stared at Rory, amused. He had never met anyone so pushy in his life.

    “My parents don’t like strangers in the house.” Milan felt compelled to point out. “Papa is out for a few minutes, when he comes back, he might drag you out by the ear.”

    Rory chuckled.

    “Are you trying to scare me away?”

    “Is it working?”

    “No.”

    Milan smiled, oddly happy. His smile slipping when Rory moved, leaning over him to take his left hand. He frowned when Rory squeezed his hand gently, before folding the sweater’s sleeve back, exposing the white tape holding the needle in place.

    “You don’t have to hide this from me,” Rory said, his touch gentle as he smoothed the sweater’s sleeve after folding it. “It’s to keep you healthy, right?”

    Milan looked up from where Rory held his hand, to find startling blue eyes studying him.

    “I could be contagious,” Milan said, then.

    “I don’t get sick easily,” Rory answered. “Besides, I know you’re not contagious. Your family would be sick too.”

    “You have an answer for everything.”

    “I try to be on my toes,” Rory said. He settled back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Milan. “If I asked why you’re sick, would you tell me?”

    Milan bit his lip, the question common enough. He had answered it almost all his life.

    “If I asked you to pretend I was not sick, would you?” Milan asked, instead of giving the usual CVID explanation his mother had helped him memorize.

    “If that’s what you want,” Rory said with a nod, settling back in his chair, and turning his gaze to the television. “What are you watching?”

    “Anime. Do you watch?”

    “I don’t watch television. I do know loads of my cousins have kids who love watching a show called Boruto. Though, I couldn’t tell you what it’s about.”

    Milan imagined a guy like Rory spent a lot of time outside. He imagined Rory hiking, playing football, or swimming. Milan smoothed his fingers over his folded sleeve, touching the tape on his skin. He, on the other hand, could never play sports. So, he watched Ayu play, and cheered for him during his soccer matches.

    “What are you thinking?” Rory asked, drawing his attention back to the present.

    “Oh, nothing important. You seem like an outdoors kind of guy.”

    “I can stay in too,” Rory said. “Watch anime with you if you want it.”

    “That’s sweet of you,” Milan chuckled. “But you don’t have to.”

    Milan checked the time left on the infusion pump, and was surprised to find five minutes had passed.

    “So, did you pop the fizzy wine bottles at midnight?” Rory asked.

    Si,” Milan said, smiling hard. “Papa and my big brother, Ayu, ran around the backyard spraying it on the ground, ushering in 2018. They got Mamma, and she was all wet, screaming like a banshee because it got in her hair.”

    “What about you?” Rory asked. “Did they get you?”

    “A little,” Milan said, remembering Ayu pouring a glass of the sparkling wine and handing it to him for a sip. “They were careful not to spill on me.”

    Rory fell silent and Milan looked up to find Rory studying him.

    “What?”

    Rory shook his head and looked around the lounge instead.

    “Your house is nice, great view of the forest from here,” Rory noted.

    “I love it best,” Milan said, pointing at the windows showing off the gazebo. “The other day, Ayu took me out to the gazebo and we were just hanging out.Then I saw a white wolf coming from the trees.”

    “Were you afraid?” Rory asked.

    “I was terrified,” Milan said, thinking of that moment, staring at the large white wolf standing at the forest’s edge. His heart racing a mile a minute, thinking himself prey for a stronger, wilder animal.

    “At the same time, it felt thrilling seeing such a wild animal so close. There was something majestic about it. You’re from around here. Tell me, is there a pack of wolves living in the forest? Or could it have been a lone wolf passing by?”

    “There have been a few sightings,” Rory answered, his gaze sliding away from Milan as he spoke. “Lone wolves are rare in this parts. If you ever meet one, run for safety.”

    “Doesn’t that trigger the wolf’s need to chase prey?”

    “It does, but if you run into a populated area, the wolf is less likely to follow you.”

    “That’s useful to know,” Milan noted. “Are you a Portento native?”

    “Yes.”

    “So, you were born here?”

    “My whole family is from here,” Rory said.

    “That’s kind of cool. You have deep roots.”

    “What about you?” Rory asked. “Where are you from?”

    “Um.”

    Milan always thought this question a trial. He was Japanese and Italian by blood. Yet, Japan was not his true home, neither was Italy. His parents rarely visited their childhood homes, preferring the whirlwind of travel they often lived. So, he couldn’t lay claim to either country. Meeting Rory’s curious gaze, he smiled.

    “We just moved from Turin, Italy. We stayed there three years, but before that, there was Brussels, before that Prague, before that, Vienna. I was born in Bern. We’ve lived in so many cities. I can only say I’m from a lot of places.”

    “I think that’s kind of cool,” Rory said.

    “Really?”

    “Yeah, you’ve gotten to see different cultures, meet different people, and learn different languages.”

    Milan smiled. “Interesting way to look at it.”

    “I think it makes you unique, Milan.”

    “Unique in a nice way, or in a weird new kid way?”

    “In a very attractive way,” Rory answered, making Milan blush.

    Rory reached for a small towel on the side table between their chairs. He stood up and came to perch on the edge of Milan’s chair. Pressing the towel on Milan’s forehead, he wiped off sweat, the cloth cool against Milan’s skin.

    Milan bit his bottom lip, holding still, conscious of Rory sitting so close to him. His heart raced as Rory worked on wiping off sweat from his forehead.Fingers tight in fists, Milan closed his eyes afraid his heart was going to jump out of his chest.

    “Are you feeling alright?” Rory asked after a minute.

    Milan looked up to find Rory studying him.

    “Just fine,” Milan managed, forcing his fingers to uncurl, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He didn’t understand why his heart kept speeding up when he got close to Rory Morgan.

    Rory folded the cloth and placed it on the table, though he did not move from Milan’s chair.

    “How long does this take?” Rory asked, pointing to the IV line.

    Milan glanced at the machine. “I have twenty -five minutes left.”

    “Then?”

    Milan smiled.

    “Then, I’ll be ready to go to school tomorrow. Do you go to Ashland High?”

    “Yes. I’m in my senior year,” Rory said. “You?”

    “Eleventh grade. I’m glad I’ll at least know one person now. First day of school is hardest when you don’t know anyone. Before, I would have my big brother, Ayu, but he’s going to college now.”

    “You can hang out with me at school,” Rory said.

    Milan smiled.

    “That would be nice. Just to warn you, I have to wear that mask you’re wearing at school, and gloves. I’ll look like the new freak of the school, and will not add cool points to you.”

    “Anyone who thinks you’re a freak will be at a loss,” Rory said, taking Milan’s right hand and turning it over to study Milan’s palm. “Your hands are really soft, except for the callus on your middle finger. Why is it there?”

    Warmth seeped into Milan’s skin where Rory held his hand, it felt as though he was getting an infusion of heat from Rory’s very warm hands. The feel of it sent thrills through Milan, it took him a moment to answer Rory.

    “I draw a lot,” Milan answered, when Rory lifted a brow in question. “Before I got a drawing tablet with a stylus, it was all on paper, and I was using pencils. I tend to grip them pretty hard, so the callus formed. Papa bought the tablet to stop the it.”

    “Does it hurt?” Rory asked, rubbing his thumb over the fading bump on Milan’s finger.

    “Not anymore,” Milan said, trying to pull his hand out from Rory’s maddening touch. He didn’t succeed. Rory tightened his hold, keeping his right hand prisoner.

    “You still haven’t told me why you came today,” Milan prompted, watching Rory study his palm as though he had a quiz later.

    “I told you, Milan,” Rory looked up then, meeting Milan’s gaze. “I really came to see you.”

    “Why?”

    Rory’s eyes shone with amusement, sending Milan’s heart into another wild riot.

    “Why not?” he asked, and Milan didn’t really have an answer to that, as he had wished for someone to visit him minutes before Rory walked in.

    ***

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  • The Assassin – eBook – Now Available!

    The Assassin

    The Assassin

    Kian Raja grew up in a cold world where the only rule is to survive and be the strongest. He has learned to live with his choices, and keep it real no matter the situation he meets. Then he meets Daven Noland who makes him wish for a future.

    Dr. Daven Noland has lived a life saving souls in the harshest of places. On a quest to prosecute a vicious man who endangers the lives of an entire village, Daven gains the attention of a murderous organization. They send an Assassin after him, and he must now convince this assassin to help him fulfill his quest. Can he manage? Will they get to the end of this journey intact, or will he lose his life trying?

    I finally got this compiled and ready for download on Smashwords.  As soon as the process is ready there it will also be available at Barnes & Nobles.  If you haven’t read it yet, enjoy it!  Share it! Please support it! ^_^

    Here is the link for Download: The Assassin

    Five Favorites about The Assassin

  • The Morgan Lore – 4

    Chapter 4 – The White Wolf on the Edge of the Forest

    Milan rubbed his chest hoping to ease the feeling of itchiness deep inside him from coughing too much.  He hated coughing.  He hated that he couldn’t suppress it.  It was always so loud sometimes, enough to alert everyone in the house that he was sick.  The cold weather was hard on him.  His immune system was too weak to fight.  Leaving him open to pneumonia from the first night after landing in Portento.  He stayed sick for weeks.  It was taking him longer to adjust to the new climate.  It didn’t help that it had snowed through Christmas.  The white stuff was pretty outside, yet, it meant the cold was unrelenting.  Milan wished he could run outside without making his health worse.

    So, he stayed in his room, reading on his kindle, or drawing.  He was finishing uploading his latest artwork on DeviantArt when Ayu came into his bedroom.

    “Milan,” Ayu said, holding up a heavy blanket.  “Want to step outside for fresh air?  Mamma is not due back home for another hour.  I set up a heater in the gazebo at the back garden.  We can have hot chocolate.”

    “Have I told you I love you?”

    Milan pushed his blankets to the side, careful to make sure his laptop didn’t fall off.  He shifted to the side of the bed and smiled when Ayu hurried to his side.

    “Not today, you haven’t.  I know you hate being cooped up in here.  Mamma won’t let you out until you stop sounding like a drum when you cough,” Ayu said.

    Milan grinned, elated by this little gift from his brother.  Ayu helped him wear a heavy jacket over his thick sweater, and zip it up.  He wore a wool hat, and pulled on gloves warm enough to make a healthy man sweat. Gloves.  Milan adjusted the white surgical mask over his mouth and nose, adjusting the wool hat covering his head so that his ears were warm.

    Ayu crouched to help him with boots.  His feet already in the heaviest socks possible.  Their mother worked at making sure Milan’s clothing was the heaviest it could be in this weather.  Satisfied that every part of Milan was covered except for his eyes, Ayu looked up at him and grinned.

    “Ready?”

    “Yes,” Milan nodded, excited.

    Ayu wrapped the heavy blanket around Milan, then turned around and presented his back to Milan.  Milan wrapped his arms around Ayu’s neck, pressing his slight body against Ayu’s back for a piggy-back ride outside.  They used a side door to get outside, careful not to alert Marie, or else they would get a scolding.

    Milan felt the contrast of being in the house, and outside immediately.  The cold air felt good on his face, the fresh air flowed deep inside his lungs.  Ayu walked fast, over the salted path to the gazebo.  The snow covered grounds were beautiful, all the way to the evergreen forest surrounding their house.

    Milan smiled hard when Ayu deposited him on a comfy bench in the white gazebo.  There was a heater sitting right in the middle of the round floor space.  Ayu adjusted the blanket over Milan, and stepped back to inspect his handiwork.

    “Are you comfortable?”

    “Yes,” Milan said, happy to be outside for the first time since the day they landed in Portento.  He had fallen sick overnight, and been unable to get out of bed all the way through Christmas.

    “Mamma’s gonna freak out if she finds us out here, so we’ll head back when my phone beeps.  I set up a little alarm to tell me if the front gates open.”

    “You’re so handy with that stuff,” Milan noted, watching his brother turn on music on his Ipad.

    “Yeah, it sucks that we can’t tell Mamma and Papa.  I don’t like that they both want me to get into medicine.”

    Ayu shrugged, settling on the bench opposite Milan.

    “You can enroll into whatever class you want, Ayu.  Do what you want.  I want to be an architect, although I don’t know if it will happen,” Milan said, staring at the tree edge with a wistful glance.

    He wished he could explore the forest surrounding their home.  When he was feeling better, maybe he would try to sneak in there and discover what lay inside that forest.

    “Milan.”

    “Don’t say something to inspire me right now.  I don’t want to hear it,” Milan said, turning to Ayu.  “Dance for me.  Like you used to when we were hanging out with Christina in Turin.”

    “Milan.”

    “Come on, this space is awesome.  Move the heater closer to me, and do some B-boying, Ayu Takeda.  I bet you’ve lost it.”

    “Oh no, you didn’t.”

    Ayu placed his iPad on the bench.  He got up and moved the heater closer to Milan, then went to change the music to break beats.

    Milan adjusted the blanket so that he could remove his hands from under the heavy fabric to clap when his brother started dancing.  Ayu was a great b-boy, his style fun and entertaining.  Milan couldn’t help clapping in excitement when Ayu contorted into a back flip, and came up into a comical freeze that had Milan laughing with joy.

    After thirty minutes, Ayu decided he needed some water after working up a sweat.

    “I’ll get hot chocolate for you, Milan.  Don’t move.  I’ll be right back.”

    Ayu jumped out of the gazebo, running toward the kitchen.

    Milan watched him leave, and finally let out the cough he had been holding back for a while, not wanting to spoil the fun.  The cough was harsh, violent, left him scratchy inside his chest.  Taking off the surgical mask, he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and looked toward the trees on a coincidence.  Milan choked on his last cough when he saw a large white wolf standing right on the forest edge.

    Milan took in a labored breath, standing in a panic, his blanket sliding to the ground.  The cold air wrapped around him, making him shiver.  His gaze remained trained on the large white wolf.

    He took a step back and it seemed to move forward.

    He stopped.

    He had once watched a wolf feature on NatGeo.  Wolves loved the chase, they cornered their prey, and the moment the poor deer started running, the wolves attacked.  He closed his eyes, when he remembered the sight of those same wolves with their muzzles red from the deer’s blood.  If he moved now, he might end up like that animal.  He could try running, but to be honest, his muscles were weak, he could barely walk without tiring out.  The house was the same distance away as the gazebo was from the forest edge.

    Opening his eyes, he stood stock still, his gaze on the white wolf still watching him.  Heart racing, he weighed his options.  Would calling out help?  Marie wasn’t supposed to know about him being out here, but surely—

    The sound of the kitchen door opening and closing filled him with relief.  Ayu was coming back.  Milan saw the wolf start back into the forest.  He let out a soft relieved breath as the wolf blended into the forest edge, until Milan couldn’t see it anymore.

    “Milan!” Ayu exclaimed when he reached him.  “What are you doing?  You can’t expose yourself like this.  You’re still coughing up a storm.  Sit.”

    “Ayu,” Milan pointed to the forest edge, his teeth chattering, from the cold or fear, Milan couldn’t tell.  “I just saw a huge wolf over at the trees.  It was too huge, I couldn’t believe it, but it was definitely a wolf.”

    “Wolves in a residential area?” Ayu asked, disbelief heavy in his tone.  He pushed Milan to sit, and grabbed up the blanket on the floor.  Wrapping it around Milan, Ayu moved the heater closer.

    “I swear to God I’m not crazy.  There was a wolf right there.”

    Ayu straightened up and turned to look, his gaze searching the tree line and finding nothing.

    “Milan.”

    “There was a wolf, Ayu.”

    “Okay,” Ayu agreed, with a small frown.  “I’ll talk to Papa.  Ask him to check with the Biosense staff.  Meanwhile, why don’t we get this hot chocolate in you?  Hmm…”

    “I really saw a wolf, Ayu,” Milan insisted, holding the warm mug between his hands, his gaze on the forest edge.  He wished the wolf would appear again, if only to prove his words to his brother.

    Ayu patted the wool hat over Milan’s head and perched on the bench beside him.

    “I believe you.”

    Milan sipped his hot chocolate, his gaze returning to the spot where the wolf had disappeared.  He wondered if the wolf was living close by, was it alone, or did it have a pack?  Did it have kids?  Was it starving?

    I miei bambini, what are you doing out here?” Ilaria’s voice startled them into turning around.  “Polpetto, mind explaining yourself?

    Ayu gave a nervous chuckle, standing up, as Ilaria walked into the gazebo.  She looked tired, dark shadows under her eyes.  Dressed in a silver-grey winter jacket, she removed her gloves and moved to press her palm on Milan’s forehead.

    “You’re lucky he’s not feverish.  He is not supposed to be outside.”

    “Mamma,” Ayu started, just as his ipad buzzed.  His alarm going off a tad too late.

    “It was my fault.” Milan cupped the mug of hot chocolate tight and took a sip to warm his insides.  “I pushed him until he had no choice but to bring me out here.  I’ve been cooped up in the house too long, Mamma.  I’m starting to look like a shriveled mushroom.”

    “This child,” Ilaria sighed and sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  “Come, Ayu, sit.  The weather is letting up, I think.  It’s warmer than yesterday.”

    “January hasn’t come yet,” Ayu said, sitting on their mother’s right side.  “They call January and February deep winter here.”

    “Hmm…” Ilaria squeezed Milan’s shoulders.  “I know you wanted to go to school, but maybe a tutor will be better?  This way you don’t have to deal with the cold.”

    “Don’t take it back,” Milan said, leaning into her.  “I’ll be strong enough to go.”

    “I hope so.”  Ilaria pressed a kiss on his head, and turned to do the same to Ayu.  “Well, the music is on.  Was Ayu b-boying for you, cucciolo?”

    “He was, and he hasn’t lost it,” Milan grinned.

    “I can burst some moves too, you never ask to see them,” Ilaria complained.

    “I want to see,” Milan insisted.

    “Okay, but Ayu has to help me, my bones are getting old…”

    Ilaria stood making a show of having her back in pain, making them both laugh.

    Ayu jumped to his feet and changed the music to their mother’s favorite Italian singer.  She grinned wide and started dancing her own version of the saltarella, lifting her skirts so that they could see her steps.  She was good.  Mostly, she was hilarious, and then the music changed to Shakira’s Lobo and she grabbed Ayu so that they danced together.

    Milan was happy watching them, suppressing his coughs when he could, not wanting to spoil their fun.  His cheeks flushed with excitement.  This was the best day he had had since landing in Portento.

    ***

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  • The Morgan Lore – 3

    Chapter 3 – The Council running the Town

    When they got home, Rory helped Chris out of the pickup truck, Chris’s arm over his shoulder.  They started for the front door.  They had just gone up the steps when the first car arrived, parking behind their father’s black ford pickup.  Rory helped Chris sit on the first step when a second and third car appeared.

    “The Council,” Chris murmured.  “Guess word about Dr. Ilaria is out.”

    “You have to admit it’s pretty weird for her to have moved in to town without anyone knowing.”

    “Someone knew,” Chris said, his gaze narrowed as he watched the town’s council members walk up to their father and greet him.  “Dad must have called them when we were in the hospital.”

    Rory got up and bent down to help Chris up.  They entered their family home and headed to the living room.  Rory settled Chris on a comfortable blue couch just as council members filed in.

    “Rory.”

    The Ashland University’s Chancellor greeted, moving to sit in the armchair closest to Chris.

    “Mr. Lechter,” Chris greeted with a nod.

    Ashland High School’s Principal, Rick Raine, tossed Rory’s hair making him duck.

    “Chris, if it weren’t for you getting hurt, this wouldn’t have come to our attention.”

    “Principal Rick,” Rory said in greeting.

    “You’ve shot up during the holidays, Rory.  What is your father feeding you?”

    “Too much meat is what,” Chris said with a short laugh.  “I think we are the only people that barbecue every day.”

    “Is that a complaint?” Connor asked, coming into the room followed by two women.

    “Nope,” Chris said, bending over his injured thigh with avid interest.

    Rory bit his lip to hold back a laugh.  Their food options were an everyday argument between Connor and Chris.  Chris wanted real meals, while Connor wondered what was wrong with beef, pork, or even chicken cooked over an open fire.

    “Rory, how are you?”

    Rory looked up to find one of the women smiling at him.

    Linda Bennet managed the town’s only grocery store.  The perfect cover, Rory thought.  The amount of gossip that passed through her store was enough to sink the town.  It was a good thing Linda knew how to keep secrets.

    “Doing fine, Linda,” Rory said with a shy smile.

    “You’re blushing.”

    Chris winked at him, and he looked away.  It was hard not to.  Linda was one beautiful woman.  Her curves perfect, her red hair long and wavy.  She could put any top model to shame.  Her husband tended to be an overprotective bastard, and Rory couldn’t blame him one bit.

    Rory perched on a stool his gaze on the last member of the town’s council.  Lisbeth Jones.  Short, haughty, and the woman who controlled the town as Portento’s Mayor.

    “Nothing changes in this house, Connor,” Lisbeth said, perching on the second armchair next to Lechter.

    Rory did not miss his father’s shrug.  Lisbeth whined about the lack of change in the house every time she came to visit.  Which was every week.  Which made her a nagging crazy woman in love with Connor, who pretended not to see it.

    Rory shifted on the stool, getting comfortable.

    “So, Dr. Ilaria Takeda,” Connor said, leaning on the back of Lisbeth’s armchair.  “Anyone know about her?”

    “Nothing at all,” Lechter sighed.  “I was shocked when Connor called to ask.”

    “Mayor?” Principal Rick prompted.

    Lisbeth shook her head with a frown.

    “Any new projects in town?” Connor asked, touching her shoulder.

    Lisbeth leaned into the touch.

    “We all approved the projects running at the moment last year, including the Biosense deal to expand the hospital.”

    “I still don’t approve of having Biosense building an entire facility in our town,” Linda sighed.  “They have a chunk of the north forest cordoned off.  They don’t allow anyone unauthorized inside.  Who knows what they are doing there.”

    “The town needed the capital injection,” Lisbeth defended.  “Linda, we’ve been over this.  We can’t keep fighting progress otherwise we’ll stunt our people.”

    Linda gave an impatient sound and waved her hands in frustration.

    “I ran Doctor Ilaria’s name through the system on our way back from the hospital,” Connor said.  “Ilaria Takeda’s address places her inside the Biosense radius.  She could be new staff.”

    “This presents a new challenge,” Rick said with a sigh.  “We can’t have Biosense bringing in staff without informing us.”

    “Their staff is on a revolving schedule, two weeks here, and the rest wherever their other facilities are located.  We have not had a problem before.  Linda does supply drop-offs for most of them.  They live in an isolated bubble, it’s hard to get them out of their houses.  She knows this is true,” Lisbeth said.

    “So, what’s different with Ilaria?” Lechter asked.  “She got a job at the hospital, and wants to enroll her son into the local high school.”

    “She said she had two,” Rory said.  “Two sons.”

    “Right, so one might be enrolling into Ashland U,” Lechter said, sitting back with a huff.   “How does such a thing happen without the council’s knowledge?”

    Silence filled the room, and then Chris tossed a throw pillow into the air.

    “One of us is keeping a secret,” Chris said.

    Linda shook her head.

    “Nonsense.  The community is happy.  Our families interconnected.  We would all know if something was up.  Why would anyone make a deal with outsiders?”

    “As Lisbeth said, the world is changing out there.  There are those who want more than the community offers,” Principal Rick said.  “More—

    “Then they are idiots,” Lechter cut in.  “They don’t know how vicious it can get outside Portento borders.  The hate, the greed that grows when humans learn our kind exists.”

    “Lechter,” Linda soothed, standing up to move to his side.

    “I’ve lived through it, so I know.  We need to find out who is working with the humans fast.  Or we’re going to be dealing with the worst,” Lechter said, his lips set in a hard line.  “No one can know the truth about Portento.  A town of werewolves is too enticing.”

    “It is weird that Chris ended up having Dr. Ilaria taking care of him at the hospital,” Rory said.  “I mean, this person must have known she was on duty in the emergency room.  Question is, how did they know Chris would end up in an accident?”

    Connor pushed off the armchair, his gaze on Chris, as he demanded.

    “Why were you racing Dolon?”

    Chris sat up with a frown.

    “You think Dolon is involved?  That’s impossible.  He is not that smart.”

    “Chris, this is serious,” Rory insisted.

    “Fine, he found me hanging out with Hank, and Frank at the Green Onion café.  Dolon said some stupid shit, and I lost my head and challenged him.”

    “What stupid shit?” Linda asked.

    “I don’t want to say it here.”

    “What was it about?” Connor insisted.

    Chris closed his eyes, and then dropped his head back on the couch.

    “It was about Rory, okay.  Dolon is a fucking homophobe.  I put him in his place.”

    Rory stared at his brother in shock.  Did that mean that every time Chris had fought Dolon it was about him?

    “Chris.”

    “Don’t start, Rory.”

    Chris lifted his head to scowl at him.

    “Thanks,” Rory said with a small smile.

    “Gosh, you two are so cute,” Linda giggled.

    “I wonder if someone egged Dolon into pushing Chris into a fight,” Principal Rick said.  “Anyone who knows the Morgan brothers will understand what works if you want to push them to the limit.  No offense Chris, Rory.  You two have a short fuse.”

    Rory wasn’t going to argue there.  He didn’t care if anyone called him a fag to his face, but touch Chris, and that was the end of the line.  Dolon now had to deal with him when he got out of hospital.  The crash with Chris had broken Dolon’s femur.  Too bad for him, because he was going back in for broken ribs and a cracked skull once Rory was done with him.

    “What do we do now?” Linda asked.

    “Find out more about Dr. Ilaria,” Lisbeth said.  “Connor, that’s your mandate as Alpha.  The Council will leave you to it.  Meanwhile, I’ll reach out to my contacts at Biosense and ask about their new staff.”

    “What about this Dr. Ilaria’s kids joining school?” Linda asked.

    “Let them,” Principal Rick smiled.  “It’s the best way to keep a close eye on them.  Rory can help me with that, and as for Ashland University, maybe Chris can do it?”

    “Come on, I was going to take a gap year,” Chris complained.

    “You need to be part of the student body to move around the university grounds without suspicion,” Lechter said.  “That means enrolling into a few courses.  It won’t hurt you.”

    “Whatever.”  Chris sighed, knowing the decision was made.

    “Well, looks like we’re in for an interesting new year,” Linda said, with a sudden grin.  “The town’s been quiet anyway.  Dr. Ilaria might swing by the grocery store for supplies.  I’ll make friends with her.  Maybe invite her to the new year’s bonfire.”

    “No way,” Rory protested.  “What if they see something they shouldn’t?  You know how people get when they get drunk.”

    “Rory is right,” Connor said.

    “Fine, we can do a luncheon thing, at the town hall,” Linda said.  “I mean, it’s good for everyone to know that we have humans living among us.  Just in case—you know, someone pounces on them by mistake.”

    Chris chuckled, gaining a smack on his head from Principal Rick.

    “I’ll leave you to plan it, Linda,” Connor said.  “Let’s keep in touch, and if anyone discovers more, call the rest of us.”

    “Yes Alpha,” they all answered.

    “Great, well, we have chicken in the freezer.” Connor nodded toward the kitchen.  “It’s almost lunch, and the rest of the family is on the way in from work, or college for Matt and Topher.  We can have a lunch barbecue.”

    Chris groaned, and rolled around on the couch.

    Linda stood, and stretched her arms above her head.

    “I’ll make lasagna, Chris.  Wouldn’t want you to lose your head over the constant barbecues.”

    Chris perked up, and got up from the couch, his leg clearly feeling better, when he hurried after Linda.

    Rory remained sitting on the stool as the rest of the council followed Chris and Linda to the kitchen.

    Connor swept fingers through his hair and sat on the closest armchair.

    “You have a job to do,” Connor broke the silence.

    Rory sat up on the stool, and nodded.

    “Yes, Sir.”

    “We need as much information as we can get.  Dr. Ilaria seemed harmless in the hospital, but we can’t be sure.  Don’t take chances.”

    “I’ll be careful.”

    “Take Topher and Matt with you.”

    Rory thought about the scent of mandarin oranges lingering on Dr. Ilaria.  The memory of it filled his thoughts, making him want to find it, and take a deeper whiff.  There was something so enticing about that scent—

    “Rory?”

    “Yeah,” he shook his head, and met his father’s gaze.

    “We need to be careful with this.  Lechter is always on edge when humans are involved.  If we don’t handle this right, lives could be lost, placing our way of life on the line.  I don’t want trouble descending on us.”

    “I understand, Dad.”

    “Good, soon as Topher and Matt come back, after lunch you guys set off.”

    Rory watched his father leave the living room, heading to the kitchen.  He let out a long sigh.  There was always something going on it seemed.

    ***

    ←Chapter 2

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  • Snippets – The Morgan Lore

    This is a new story in development.  I’m excited about it, hope you are too.

    Chapter 1 –Milan Takeda Moves to the Town of Portento

    Milan Takeda sat in the passenger seat as his brother drove the rental car from the airport to their new home.  His family seemed unable to settle in one city.  Moving was harder this time.  The Takeda family had managed to stay in Turin, Italy for the last three years.  Milan had loved every day of those three years.  Had loved becoming part of a community and getting friends.  The parents managed to lull Milan into thinking he could belong somewhere.

    Until one rainy afternoon, two weeks ago, when his father came home with the big family announcement.  The Takedas were moving to Portento, a small town in Colorado, USA.  Milan reclined his seat and folded his arms over his chest.

    Portento, the name sounded Italian.  The town’s founding fathers were Italian.  Choosing a name like Portento, they must have thought the town represented miracles.

    Their father, Kiyo Takeda, worked hard to excite his children into the move.  Kiyo was a research scientist working at Biosense, a company that developed drugs for various diseases.  Their mother was the Italian in the family.  Her name was Ilaria.  She was beautiful, full of energy and loved to laugh.  She was the reason this move happened without a fight.

    “Think of it as an adventure, Milan,” Ilaria told him when he started to protest the move.  “Your father is close to unlocking the key behind his research.  If he does, then you will be free too, my bambino.  Free to enjoy the world, as you want.  Meanwhile, your father is all about i miracoli della scienza.”

    “The wonders of science,” Milan murmured, tagging his jacket closed.  He shivered, drawing his brother’s gaze.

    “You’re cold.”

    It was a statement.  Ayu fiddled with the heat controls, and in seconds, Milan felt warmth start to sip into his body.  Ayu pulled over to the curb, slowing down to a stop.  Milan started to ask what he was doing, only to have Ayu reach in the backseat for a blanket.  He covered Milan with the heavy cashmere tucking the ends around Milan’s shoulders.

    “We’ll be home soon.  This place is cold in December.  I told Papa we should have waited to move in the summer.”

    Milan held Ayu’s dark gaze, and forced a smile.

    “It’s alright.  I’m fine, Ayu.”

    “No, you’re not,” Ayu said, pressing his palm on Milan’s forehead.  “You’re feverish, and you trying to hide it, doesn’t make it better, Milan.”

    Ayu shifted away, pressing a button to unlock the trunk, he opened his door and Milan closed his eyes as a wave of cold swept in.  He gritted his teeth, not wanting to shiver, but he couldn’t help it.  Ayu got out, closing the door fast, and hurried to the back of the car.

    He was back in minutes with a bottle of water, and a brown envelope of medicine.  Turning on the light above them, Ayu got two pills from the envelope and helped Milan take them.  Once Milan swallowed the antibiotics, Ayu placed the envelope in the console between them, and studied him.

    “I know moving is hard and you didn’t want to leave Turin,” Ayu said.

    Milan folded his arms under the blanket, his gaze holding Ayu’s dark one.

    “I wasn’t protesting for me.  I was worried about you.”  Milan dropped his gaze to his lap.  “I know you didn’t want to leave Christina.”

    “Milan.”

    “You love her.  I saw you two in the alcove before we had to leave.  She was crying and so were you, Ayu.  I don’t want to be the reason you left the girl you like.”

    “You’re important to me, too.  You are my little brother, Milan.  Moving here alone would be hard for you.  I’m taking a gap year, and will head to university as soon as you’re better.”

    “What if I don’t get better?” Milan asked, looking up to meet Ayu’s gaze.  “Mom and I, we talked to the doctor about my condition…this CVID immunodeficiency thing, I might have to manage it all my life.  You can’t stop doing what you want because you worry about me.  It’s not fair.”

    “Milan.”

    “Don’t take the gap year,” Milan insisted.  “Go back and enter Turin University with Christina.  Do it for me, Ayu.”

    Ayu shook his head.  “I can’t—”

    “Yes you can.”

    “But—

    “I’ll be upset if you don’t go.  You’ll be unhappy, and that will make me unhappy.  It will make me sick, and it will be because you didn’t listen to me.”

    “Your guilt tripping won’t work.”

    Ayu turned off the light overhead, and engaged the car into drive.

    “This move is not easy for any of us, Milan.  I need to be at home with you.  Dad’s always in his lab and Mom will be working now in the town’s hospital.  We can’t leave you in the care of the housekeeper and nurses.”

    “Why not?”

    “You’re sixteen—”

    “Turning seventeen in a month.”

    “Yeah, well endure my presence by your side until you’re eighteen,” Ayu teased.  “I don’t regret leaving Christina, Milan.  I love her yes, but she’s not the one.”

    Milan frowned.

    “As if you know what the one looks like.”

    “Do you know what the one looks like?” Ayu asked him, adjusting his seat belt, as he buckled in for their long drive home.

    “I’m sure I will know when he comes along,” Milan sighed.  “That is if I can live long enough.”

    “Milan, don’t say that.”

    Milan turned to stare out the window.  It was dark outside.  Their flight landed at seven in the evening.  The navigation system said the drive to Portento would take an hour and a half to two hours.  Milan sighed.

    “I’m sorry, Ayu.”

    “I’ll help you search,” Ayu said, after a while.  “When we find him, whoever your one is, they’ll love you, Milan, just as you are.”

    Milan closed his eyes and smiled.  He didn’t know about the one, but he did know that no one had a brother like Ayu, or a father like Kiyo and a mother like Ilaria.  He was content enough with their love.  Their unconditional dedication was enough for him, he decided as he drifted off to sleep.

    ***

    Their new home looked buried deep in a forest.  Milan had never seen so many trees in his life.  The town was at least thirty minutes away.  He had hoped they would be closer to it, this way he could walk in some days and explore.  Had Kiyo known his thoughts?

    Milan held the edges of the blanket over his shoulders, and stared up at the three-story house.  It was more modern than their home in Italy.  He instantly missed the warmness of Turin, and the ancient walls that had seen millennia of history.  This place was too modern, too new, too cold.  Light from the tall glass windows on the top floor poured down to the front yard.  Milan walked up the steps to the front door, pausing when the door opened and a short dark haired woman came running out.

    Milan chuckled when she pulled him into a tight hug, bubbling in Italian.

    Cucciolo, I’ve been so worried about you.  I kept wondering why I didn’t just wait before flying here.  I should have been the one to come with you.  I should have stayed and flown here with you.  Are you okay?”

    Ilaria stepped back, pressing her warm hands to his forehead.  It was impossible to stop this tirade, especially when she referred to him as a little puppy.  The only way to end the worry in her tone was to agree to all her suggestions.

    “You are too warm for my liking.  Come inside, it’s a warm shower, and off to bed with you.  Ayu, polpetto, come here, let Mamma hug you.”

    Milan laughed at Ayu, when he had to lean down to hug their short mother.  Catching Ayu’s gaze, he mimed a meatball, and got a scowl for his efforts.  Ilaria’s meatball let go of her and opened the door, stepping into the house.

    Cucciolo, you look pale.  Tomorrow, I will stay home with you,” Ilaria said, wrapping an arm around Milan’s shoulders.  “I’m worried the traveling will get you sick.  It’s almost the holidays.  I don’t want you to be sick then.”

    Milan wanted to tell her not to worry, but his chest felt congested.  He knew a bad cold was coming.

    His bedroom was fully furnished, and on the third floor, with the tall windows showing off the trees in the backyard.  The bathroom connected his room to Ayu’s bedroom.  Their mother had worked hard to make sure they were comfortable.

    Milan wanted to explore but he was too tired.  Traveling always left him so tired.  The cold was unwelcome, and he was insanely uncomfortable.  The discomfort eased after a hot shower, and he wore the warm pajamas his mother insisted he wear.  The potato soup she brought in with a slice of bread was delicious; it warmed him deep to the bones.  Sliding into bed, Milan sat, his back leaning on the headboard watching her arrange the things from his book bag on his reading desk by the windows.

    “I’ve been looking at schools,” Ilaria said.  “Ayu!”

    “Yes, Mamma,” Ayu called back from his bedroom.

    “Come in here, polpetto.  I have news.”

    Milan played with the covers, still watching his mother.  Ayu entered the bedroom a minute later, and came to join him on the bed, sitting on top of the covers, right next to Milan.

    “Are you serious about not going to university?” Ilaria asked him.

    “Yes.”

    “I don’t agree with this.”  Ilaria arranged a stack of Mario Llosa books on the shelf above Milan’s desk, and then turned to face them.  “No son of mine will live without higher education.  Yes, Ayu, there is a university close here.  I got your records from Turin, and they accepted them.  You only need to choose the courses you want, classes start in January.”

    “What about Milan?”

    “Milan has decision to make too,” Ilaria said.  “Two choices, we can get a tutore, continue your studies as before, but you seemed to like school in Turin.  I will do what you want.”

    “How far is the high school from here?” Ayu asked.

    “There is the public school.  It’s not far, though we would have to drop Milan off.  They offered a school bus, but I don’t think standing outside is good for your health.  You need a ride into school, and someone to pick you up.  I can drop you off in the morning.”

    “Then I will arrange my classes so that I’m able to pick him up,” Ayu said.

    “Marie is also with us,” Ilaria said, smiling when both boys grinned.  “She agreed to move here, with us.”

    “Oh, that’s awesome.  At least there is one person we know,” Milan said.

    Cucciolo, you still have not told me if you will go to school.”

    “Is it very different from the one in Italy?” Milan shuddered.  “I’ve read stories, the bullying and the clicks—”

    “You can choose the international school.  This way everyone you find there will be different like you.  You’ve been to one in Turin.”

    “The international school will cost you,” Milan noted.  “You have to pay for Ayu’s university now—”

    “Your education is important, to your Papa, to me, Milan.  You don’t worry about cost.  It is our job.”

    “Yeah well,” Milan sighed.  “I didn’t like the international school and ended up moving to public school in Turin.  It was the only way to learn the language, and get to know the community.”

    Milan stared at his fingers.  Life was about experience.  The tutor would mean he would be safe indoors.  Not have to face people he didn’t want to.  The international school was a strain on his parent’s budget.  They had to worry about his health, and Ayu’s university…plus, the students tended to stick to their own little communities.

    “I’ll go to the public high school,” Milan said.

    “Are you sure?” Ayu asked beside him.

    “It will be a new experience,” Milan insisted.  “A new adventure.”

    Si, it is,” Ilaria nodded.  “Well, that is good news.  I will drop by there end of this week.  If you’re feeling well, you can visit with me if you want.”

    Milan nodded, a wave of excitement and anxiety racing through him.

    “Where is Papa?” Milan asked.

    “Papa is busy working,” Ilaria said.  “His lab is now just beyond the trees.  This new investor is very keen on finishing Papa’s research.  So, Papa will be home when he decides to take a break.”

    Ilaria sighed.

    “He is working too much again.  I hope he can make it to breakfast tomorrow.  It will be nice to have us all at the table.”

    Milan yawned, feeling tired.  His yawn triggered Ayu and Ilaria into motion.  In minutes, he was horizontal on the bed tucked in tight like a hot pocket, and the lights turned down.

    Ayu kissed his forehead and left, leaving Ilaria sitting on the side of the bed.  She rubbed his chest, and reached out to push his dark curly hair out of his eyes.

    “You’re going to be okay,” Ilaria murmured, though her tone sounded as though she was convincing herself.  “Papa is close, and at least here we can find the best hospitals to take care of you if things get worse.  My cucciolo, mamma loves you very much, you know that, yes?”

    Milan nodded.

    “I love you too.”

    Ilaria leaned down, filling his nostrils with the scent of fresh citrus, his favorite scent.  She pressed a soft kiss on his forehead, and then stood.

    “Okay, goodnight.  Sweet dreams, my love.”

    “Goodnight, Mamma.”

    Milan drifted to sleep in this new strange place, feeling on the edge of a new dawn.

    ***

    tml

    That’s the start.  Working on the rest, will let you know where to find this new story.  Enjoy, Sui.

  • Seiryu Spirit – 9

    Chapter 8 – A break comes when saving Sakura opens the Hidden Past

    “Henri Lacome is suspected of owning the warehouse in Kobe.  His investment firm provided money to Daye Chang.  We can’t have his brother meddling in our case.”

    “Ogun.”

    “Tomoyo.”

    “Koji seems to like Andre.”

    “Koji found the children in that Kobe warehouse.  You didn’t see his face when he did.  The torture in his eyes.  He should not have to help a man who made him suffer through that.”

    “There is more to the story.  You know that.”

    Ogun shook his head, his gaze on Andre through the one-way glass.

    Andre was giving his statement to Hisao, while Leon gave his to Hisao’s partner in the next room.  Both men insisted on Leon’s innocence, and insisted they were helping Sakura’s mother in return for evidence to clear Henri’s name.

    “Exonerating Henri Lacome is not our purpose here.”

    “But don’t you think it’s intriguing?” Tomoyo asked, folding her arms against her chest.  “What are the odds that these two would walk into an investigation, and end up with so many ties with Daye Chang?”

    “There are no coincidences in life,” Ogun stated.

    “Exactly.”

    “You think it was planned.”

    Tomoyo narrowed her gaze.  She wouldn’t say planned, just—

    “The child’s name is Sakura.”

    “Yes.”  Ogun nodded his gaze on Tomoyo, confused.  “What about it?”

    “Before we left home,” Tomoyo said.  “Koji’s art room was filled with paintings of a blooming sakura tree that then withers into ashes.  He said, the tree withers first, and the flowers last.”

    Ogun frowned.

    “You can’t mean—

    “The mother, this Seiren, is in trouble.  If anything happens to her, the child suffers, if anything happens to the child, the mother suffers.  Do I need to remind you that Koji is not crazy?  What he sees—”

    Ogun cursed under his breath.

    “Comes true.  I forget,” Ogun sighed.  “What is it like to live an ordinary life again?”

    Tomoyo chuckled.

    “Leave Andre Lacome alone.  There is a reason for his appearance.  We haven’t discovered it yet; don’t push him out before we do.”

    “Fine, whatever you say,” Ogun agreed.

    Tomoyo left the room and headed out in search of Koji.

    ***

    Andre told the investigators everything he knew about Seiren, Daye Chang and Henri’s investments.  The door opened when he was finished, and Koji, Tomoyo and their scary guard, Ogun, walked in to the room.

    “Where is Henri now?” Koji asked, coming to lean on the table next to Andre.

    Andre hesitated.  He didn’t want his brother arrested.  No matter the situation, an arrest would place his family in the spotlight.  There was too much to lose—

    “This investigation is private,” Koji said, and Andre looked up to meet liquid blue eyes.  “Seems you have given up your secrets.  I will offer one of mine.  The Seiryu Organization is funding this investigation.  The fourteen children missing were due to enroll into the Seiryu Academy in a week’s time.  Sakura Toshiro is a wild card, one we didn’t understand how she fit.  Thanks to you, we now do.”

    “What is the Seiryu Academy?” Andre asked with a frown.

    “Small steps,” Koji answered.  “As the investigation is guided by Seiryu investigators,

    CCW_5719-1-1000x665

    your brother’s location will not go out to the Kobe Investigation Team.”

    “But—,” Ogun started, and Koji gave him a censuring glance.

    “You have my word,” Koji said to Andre.

    Andre gave Ogun a wary glance, but when he got a small nod from the man, he realized Koji had authority here.  Meeting Koji’s glance, he read promise in blue eyes.

    “He’s at our family home.”  Andre sighed.  “Villa Lacome.”

    “That’s in France?” Koji asked.

    “Yes.”

    “You could have stayed there and no one would have known where to find Henri.”

    “Henri doesn’t like to stay home,” Andre said, shaking his head.  “He would go mad if I tried to force him to stay there.  He lives for freedom, and I wouldn’t dare try to curtail that.  The problem with giving Henri freedom is he doesn’t know how to differentiate trouble from goodwill.  He got involved with Daye Chang thinking he was helping a good man.  Daye Chang took advantage.”

    “How similar yet different,” Koji murmured, drawing Andre’s gaze.

    “What?”

    “I’ve told you before, you remind me of someone,” Koji said, with a slight smile.  “Although, your differences are also infinite.  Your brother is safest where he is.  Daye Chang is no gentle tiger.  He will rip him apart if he senses him close.”

    “Meaning?”

    “I found the children in Kobe,” Koji said, his gaze hardening.  “There are others I didn’t find, Andre.”

    Andre didn’t miss the wave of sadness in Koji’s eyes.  Deep, profound grief—it made him want to draw Koji into his arms.  He started to touch Koji’s arm but then Koji pushed off the table and moved away.

    “Ogun, they’ll join the team,” Koji murmured.  “The faster we can get into the Blue Dragon club, the better.  Let’s make arrangements.”

    “Koji,” Andre said, as Koji headed for the door.  Koji paused in the act of opening the door to look at him.  “Thank you for doing this.”

    ***

    The Blue Dragon club was everything Andre described.  Koji stood in the middle of the crowded dance floor, hearing aids off, loud music filling his head.  Eyes closed, he stood still just listening.  This bliss was different from when he was with Andre.  No, this one was like a cheat: a guilty pleasure that filled his blood with adrenaline.  The faster the beat, the harder the drop, the better.

    The DJ was great.  The music worth it.

    Koji smiled and opened his eyes.  Ogun had gone back to the Toshiro house to get Seiren’s picture.  Koji returned the hearing aids, and turned them on.  He wasn’t surprised to find Ogun trying to reach him.

    “Reply Koji or I’m sending in the cavalry.”

    “Relax,” Koji said, though he wondered how Ogun could hear him over the loud music.  “Have you found her?”

    “Andre says there is a spot near the bar.  He says she likes foreigners.”

    “I hope you made arrangements then?” Koji asked.

    “Arrangements?” Andre asked in the communications line.

    “Koji doesn’t do hookups,” Ogun elaborated.  “Koji, someone is getting in place.  He’s blonde, and in blue.  Move to the bar and you should see him.”

    “You don’t do hookups?” Andre asked, as Koji made his way to the bar.

    Koji chuckled, his brain filling with Andre’s kiss this morning.

    Koji dared not kiss random people.  He tried once with a boy he liked at the Seiryu Academy.  They were in the same class, and Koji liked the boy’s smile.  Their lips touched, and all the boy’s thoughts flooded Koji’s brain sending him into a seizure.

    Koji passed out for three days, and decided then that kissing was not for him.

    Until this morning, with Andre.

    His first real kiss.

    “Koji?” Andre’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he blushed, his cheeks flaming red.

    Koji sat on a stool and pressed his palms to his face.

    “Are you alright?  You look flushed,” Ogun said.

    Koji cursed CCTV and motioned the bartender, ordering a gunner.

    “It’s hot in here,” Koji said.

    “I bet,” Andre teased.

    Koji took the glass the bartender placed before him, and took a quick sip.  His gaze seeking out Ogun’s contractor.  The man stood leaning on the wall with a beer bottle in hand.

    Koji finished his drink, and was contemplating asking for another when Seiren appeared from a door behind the VIP staircase.  Beautiful was a small word to describe her.  Dressed in a fitting red dress that revealed her curves to perfection, she might have started wars in a previous life.  Her gaze swept the dance floor for a minute, and then she saw Ogun’s contractor and quickly made her way to him.

    “She works fast,” Ogun complimented, when the two moved to the corridor leading to the restrooms.

    Koji got off his stool and strolled in their direction, hands in his pockets.  Turning off the hearing aids in his ears when he made it to the corridor.  Ogun’s contractor saw him coming and shifted so that Seiren was holding him against the wall.  She kissed the contractor with abandon, trailing elegant fingers along his neck.

    Koji stopped behind her and touched her bare arm.

    Darkness filled his mind’s eye, and for a full minute Koji thought he would read nothing, until the dark filtered away.  Fear ruled Seiren, every second of the day and night, even as she stood here trying to channel it into passion with the contractor, she was afraid.  Daye loomed in her head, a terrible overlord who had murdered men before her for the smallest transgression.

    Koji closed his eyes at the number of deaths Seiren had witnessed working in the underground club.  Debtors who could not pay their gambling debts.  Suppliers demanding their money.  Anyone who discovered the terrible secrets at the Blue Dragon.  Politicians with too much knowledge, Daye Chang used Seiren to capture most of them and pulled them into his dark web.

    Daye had turned her into a black widow, and it weighed on her.

    Tears tracked down Koji’s face when he thought of Sakura and Seiren’s love for her daughter took center stage.  Deep, profound, unconditional, the only thing that centered Seiren when she would have jumped off the Tokyo Tower.  This love led Koji to a shadow tied into the fourteen children.  The club had a basement, connected to the building next door.  There was a lab of sorts—

    “Who are you?” Seiren’s voice filled his head, and Koji stepped back to find her staring at him.

    “The lab…” Koji trailed off knowing without doubt where to find the children.

    “What do you want?” Seiren asked him.

    Koji turned to Ogun’s contractor.

    “Take her outside.”

    “Who are—?”

    “We don’t have much time,” Koji cut her off.  “Don’t fight him.  Daye Chang will use you as a scapegoat one of these days.  Leave now.  Use the service exit.”

    The contractor grabbed Seiren’s arm, and led her toward the exit sign on the right side of the corridor, not giving her a chance to escape.

    Koji turned on his hearing aids.

    “Ogun, the kids are in the building next door, basement level,” Koji said, when Ogun came online.  “I’ll make a diversion.”

    “Koji,” Ogun started to protest.

    “Your contractor is bringing out Seiren, don’t lose her.  She’s under our protection now.”

    “What are you going to do?  At least wait until I send someone in—”

    “Too late,” Koji said, pulling out a black surgical mask, he wore it, covering his face.  Taking glasses from his jacket, he jammed them over his eyes, tagging his black cap lower over his forehead.

    “Koji!”

    “The basements are connected,” Koji said, heading straight for the door Seiren had used earlier.

    Closing the door, Koji paused, staring down the stairs that led to a dim hallway.  Thanks to Seiren he now knew that Daye ran an illegal casino here.  Within the depths there was a section of the club that catered to eccentric desires. He didn’t want to explore any of that, it would throw him off track.

    Koji moved with the shadows cast by the dim lighting.  Pressing into corners when footsteps approached, not moving until they passed him.

    His goal: Daye Chang’s office, hidden between the casino and the strange lounge filled with equal parts moans of pleasure and pain.  Standing outside the office, Koji peered through the glass to see it empty.  Daye was probably wandering around the club, sure that no one would dare walk into his office down here.

    Either that, or there was nothing important here.

    Koji entered the office and closed the door.  He had one dagger forced on him by Tomoyo.  He decided it would do, since meeting Daye Chang would also be beneficial.  Plus, Ogun was out there with Tomoyo.  They would come get him in case of trouble.

    Koji let out a soft breath and took in the office.  Daye spared no coin in here.  The office boasted an ultra modern touch, though the paintings on the left wall looked very old.  The branded furniture, elegant.  Strange, but the place felt very unlike Daye Chang.  The office felt wrong.  It didn’t fit a man with such a terrible reputation.

    There was a laptop on the large desk in the middle of the room.

    “Ogun?”

    “The Seiryu team entered the second building.  You were right, and they’re now making their way into the basement.  There is a lab, the children are in a holding room.  Our teams are working on getting to them.  Where are you?”

    “I’m in Daye Chang’s office.”

    Koji smiled when Ogun remained silent.

    “I’m looking at a laptop.  I don’t know how it can be of use to you.  You’ll have to guide me.”

    “I’m going to smack you senseless after this.”  Ogun’s voice came back with a sigh.  “Take the laptop, we don’t have time to do more.”

    “I take it, and they’ll know someone was here.”

    “I don’t think there is any need for secrecy, Koji.  The alarms in the laboratory are set off.  We have the police coming in.  Get out of there, Koji.”

    Koji closed the laptop, glad it was ultra thin and light.  He held it tight, and started to walk around the desk.  The art on the wall caught his attention again and he moved closer, his gaze on the closest canvas.  It was of a delicate blue butterfly, wings in motion, drawing the eye.  The next painting was a seaside landscape.  Waves hitting the shore, wild and alive, he could feel the turbulence.  Then came the last painting.  It drew a gasp from Koji.

    Why had he not noticed before?

    Why?

    Koji stepped closer to the painting, staring with blank astonishment.

    The woman in a vibrant blue kimono decorated with delicate white sakura flowers sat on a chaise looking back at Koji.  Her hair, long and silky black, decorated with more sakura flowers.  Her eyes a light blue shade.  He recognized them.  Koji’s heart tightened in pain.  His gaze shifting down to her hands, and the ring on the woman’s right index finger.  Similar to his own.

    Okaasan.

    The word wrenched from his lips.

    “My, my,” a raspy voice said.

    Koji turned to see an elegant man standing at the door, smiling at him.

    “What have we here?” the man purred.

    Koji gripped the laptop in his hand tight.  This was not Daye Chang.

    “Who are you?” Koji asked, fighting to keep his tone casual.

    His dagger hidden in his right arm.

    “That should be my question,” the man said in a lazy tone.  “You’re the one sneaking around in my office.”

    “Your office.”  Koji looked around, the paintings making sense.  Daye did not seem cultured enough for paintings.  Koji frowned.  “Why do you have this painting?”

    The cold man’s gaze moved to the painting of Misato Sukiyama, then he smiled at Koji.

    “A friend painted it,” the answer came.  “She was the love of my life.  You’re not leaving alive.  I’m sure you know that.”

    “How kind of you to let me know.”

    Koji refused to leave his mother here.  It wasn’t right.  Her painting shouldn’t hang in this place heavy with the stench of the worst.

    “You’re not Daye Chang.  So, who are you?” Koji asked.

    The cold man pushed his hands into his pockets, staying by the door, not moving an inch in.

    “I’m Takino Yuki.”

    Koji bit his lip hard.

    “Basement with the lab secure,” Ogun said into his ear.  “I’ve sent three men after you through the connecting door.  They should be on you in two minutes.  Stay calm, we’ll get you out.”

    Koji stood still, staring at the man his brother claimed had murdered their parents.  This man, who held all the answers to his parents’ deaths…Koji allowed the thin dagger Tomoyo had given him to slide down his sleeve and into his right hand.

    Takino’s gaze caught the movement and he chuckled at the sight of the dagger.

    “Wow, that’s a sharp blade.  I’m impressed.  Who sent you?”

    Koji stepped back to the wall.  He pushed a lever on the handle of the dagger, extending the blade.  With quick swipes, Koji made short work of cutting into the edges of his mother’s painting, freeing it from the frame.

    Takino rushed toward him with a harsh protest.

    Koji shifted to evade him, moving the dagger away from the painting, he swung it at Takino.  The blade stopped inches away from Takino’s throat, the tip pressing on his jugular.

    “Don’t move,” Koji ordered, pressing the blade deeper into Takino’s neck, breaking skin.

    Takino stopped.  With his left hand, Koji grabbed the falling canvas, leaving the frame empty.  Koji kept pressure on the blade, taking a few steps round Takino.

    Rushing footsteps hurried toward the office, Koji risked a glance back in time to see Daye almost at the door.  Before he could panic, Daye gasped and fell to the ground.  Two figures in black gear appeared and Koji ran for the open office door.  Jumping over Daye, Koji let the two men guide him out of the basement.  He gripped the canvas from Daye – no, Takino’s office against his chest.  The laptop secure inside his jacket and the dagger back in its original size in his hand.

    ***

    Thanks for reading…to be continued.

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    The Assassin – Ebook

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