Page 23 of The Tainted and the Tamed
He was nothing but a killer. They all were. Was Haruki the only one who felt it? Why was it so easy for everyone else to go on?
A smile touching his lips, Junpei stretched, then resumed hunting for rocks to weigh Chiyo’s limbs. Wraiths lacked the strength to move them.
As Daisuke dropped his armload of rocks on the cusp of the grave, a pair of smaller stones bounced in, landing on Chiyo’s ribs with a crack. Haruki winced.
Still staring into that grave, he did not notice that Daisuke had produced something from his pocket, or that he now held it out to Haruki. “Here,” Daisuke prompted.
He grasped a pair of thin sticks in his hand. Incense. Whatever was left of Haruki’s heart squeezed.
“I thought we should light these for her,” Daisuke said. “That you should, since she meant so much to you.”
“That’s just it,” Haruki said, rolling the sandalwood sticks in his hand. “She didn’t mean anything to me.”
“She must have, because you don’t let anyone close to you.”
“It was a mistake. Nothing more.” Haruki found himself laughing for reasons he did not quite understand, running a hand back through his now wild hair. “She was looking for a wealthy old man to fuck, to keep her in comfort. I was just the fool who fell for it. I should’ve sent her away before she could get hurt.”
“She saw your face,” Junpei said quietly, “and knew you were not an old man.”
Haruki’s head jerked up.
“Junpei’s right. Eventually, you would’ve had to address it somehow or other. Blood for the vamp, or blood of the vamp.”
“I addressed it alright.” Haruki kicked at the dirt, shrugging off Daisuke’s hand when he tried to place it on Haruki’s shoulder. “Now I’m addressing it with a stone in her mouth. A lot of good this incense will do for her now. The gods won’t listen to people like us. Your icon of mercy won’t, either.”
“Don’t be that way,” Daisuke replied, not taking the bait about his continued religious devotion, a thing uncommon among the vampires. “This woman—she meant something to you, whether or not you intended it. And you meant something to her. Think how delighted she must’ve been when she realized she didn’t have to fuck an old man.”
Junpei’s chuckle filled the taut silence between them. Haruki could do nothing but stand there, his head hung low so that the fall of his hair cut him off from the world. If he clutched the joss sticks any tighter, they would snap.
Daisuke patted his shoulder anyway. “Not ready to joke yet, I see. Maybe later.”
“Maybe after we’ve finished burying her,” Haruki’s pitch lowered to a growl. “How about then?”
“Easy,” Junpei warned.
Ever the stout-hearted warrior, Daisuke did not budge, and merely walked back to distribute the stones. “I know what you need,” he said as he hopped down into the grave.
“A better outlook,” Junpei said with a snort.
Daisuke ignored him, asking Haruki, “When was the last time you went hunting?”
Haruki’s head raised slightly. “You’re looking at it.”
Daisuke glanced down at Chiyo’s body. “Not like that. I mean actual hunting. Up here in the mountains—you can flex your instincts, and use your senses. Find yourself an animal to drain, or eat, or whatever you choose. There are wild boar in these mountains, if memory serves. You can hunt for something that fights back.”
“What good would that do?”
“More than you think. Come on.”
“You two go on ahead,” Junpei said. “I already have my eye on the bathhouse.”
“We’ll meet you there. It won’t take long—if you’re still any good.”
“Me?” Haruki straightened. “You’re questioning an elder vampire’s abilities?”
“If that’s what gets you to hunt with me, then yes.” Daisuke set down an array of rocks, covering the rest of Chiyo’s face.
In another few minutes, her body would be completely hidden.
