Page 28 of The Tainted and the Tamed
She raised a brow. “You accuse me of being haughty?”
“No, Tanabe, I accuse myself of being improper. After two days alone with Daisuke, I’ve had ample reminders of who your father was—and who you are.” His voice lowered along with his head. “I owe you an apology.”
He bowed to her at the level of her equal.
But instead of accepting his apology, Tanabe sighed. Had the mood in the room suddenly changed?
“Is this a sign of our chairman turning over a new leaf? Because if so…”
A familiar clink sharpened his senses. Tanabe withdrew a glass pill bottle from her pocket, shaking it like a baby’s rattle.
His heart beat faster.
“I don’t think it’s me you should be apologizing to,” she said. “I may not have your sense of smell, but mixing your blood into herbal medicine isn’t enough to hide the scent. If you keep this up, your guests will realize it, too, when she begins to carry your blood signature in her own scent.”
“Yukiko—”
“I don’t want to know,” she said, averting her gaze. “It’s not my place to know. But if you’re sharing the secrets of our kind with a maid who’s barely worked here two months, you will have more problems than the ones your housekeeper might cause.”
Unsure where to look, Haruki lowered his head. He didn’t know whether to be ashamed or defiant or—why, he simply didn’t know what to feel. How had she found him out?
“Murasaki needs those pills.”
“Murasaki, is it?” Tanabe fixed him with a warning glare, reminding him all too much of her father. “My, I didn’t know you were so familiar already.”
In the blink of an eye, he was before Tanabe, snatching the glass bottle from her hand. Later, he would feel guilty for using his vampire speed against her. But now, he curled his lip and said, “You don’t understand what you’ve done. These pills are saving her life.”
“Those pills are trading the life Ms. Mukai has for another one,” Tanabe snapped, “and I’ll say no more on that subject.”
His anger momentarily forgotten, Haruki’s head snapped up in shock. That was not a topic she broached lightly: the tale of how her mother became something not quite human and not quite vampire, of how Yukiko was born in the first place.
Even alluding to that secret of this dhampir offspring felt dangerous. As much as Tanabe took care of Haruki, he was also responsible for her.
He would not pry.
Even though a window of hope had cracked open.
“She needs these” was all he could muster in reply.
“Those,” Tanabe said, “are no good. Ms. Mukai has an infection now. You should have realized by now that vampire blood must be fresh to have any effect. It is not some limitless cure.”
This time, Haruki really did blush. He hadn’t thought of that. He’d been so sure he was helping Murasaki.
He couldn’t even dothatright.
“Chairman Asami,” Tanabe said, making him wish, just once, that she would call him by his first name, “promise me you won’t make her another batch. You must let nature take its course. If I may be so bold, it’s what you would have wanted for yourself.”
But if it would make her like your mother instead—what, then, is the harm in that?
“Chairman?” she prompted when he did not reply.
“I’ll consider it.”
She snorted. “Then you will not heed my warning. Will you be prepared, then, for the Diet to find out what you’re doing? Or for your enemies to track her, following your blood signature straight to a defenseless human?” She paused. “She doesn’t know, does she?”
“Of course not. She thinks I’m a servant.”
“She’sseen you?”
