Page 42 of The Tainted and the Tamed
Haruki had the sinking feeling that she was doubling back on her own trail, the better to lure them to where she wanted them.
Out of necessity, they moved quickly. When Chiyo’s taunting scent vanished, Haruki began to search for branches.
That was when he saw her—still dancing on high, just as she had when she’d fled the castle. No wonder they hadn’t caught up to her. She was moving through the tops of the trees, dropping down only to leave a false trail.
Though Haruki gestured urgently, Junpei was busy hunting for bowers and gathering leaves. Haruki grabbed his fellow chairman’s sleeve.
Alarm filled Junpei’s eyes as his head snapped up, his body following in an instant. That was when Haruki realized:he’s afraid.
Afraid, because she does not act like a normal wraith. Because we do not know just what she is capable of.
Haruki gestured into the trees.She’s capable of that.
Junpei made a gesture back—one Haruki didn’t understand. Frustrated, Junpei shook out his hands, then signaled for Haruki to continue onward.
He was right. The sky was getting far too light.
Raising his eyebrows, Haruki cut one hand under the other.Set a trap?
Junpei made a firm signal of refusal, mouthing,Too dangerous.
What if it’s already a trap?Haruki tried to communicate. He pointed in the direction Chiyo had gone, then to the location of their hide, and made a throat-slitting gesture.She’ll wait till just before dawn, kill us and take our shelter for her own.
He knew Junpei understood when the whites of his eyes showed again. His hands fluttered between them, then made awaitandset a trapsignal.
Then we’ll be waiting for her with a trap of our own.
They wove the shelter more hastily tonight, startling at every crackle of a leaf or sudden caw of a crow. Neither chairman could be sure when she would make her move.
Though she was incredibly strong for a wraith, she was no vampire. Her best chance would be to expose them to the sun, weakening and injuring them. Only then would she go for the kill.
The lighter the sky grew, the more Haruki’s stomach tied itself in knots.
Any moment now.
The makeshift roof was not all they had prepared. A secondary weave, stuffed tightly with leaves and mud, would act as a blanket. It was barely big enough for both of them, but if the worst came to pass, it would do. They were ready to destroy their own shelter if it meant destroying Chiyo with it.
They smeared each other’s faces and arms with mud, careful not to leave any large patches of skin exposed. It wouldn’t help them much, but if they were lucky, it would buy them more time in the sunlight and help them maintain their healing energy.
Their preparations completed, Haruki shook out his limbs before crawling into the hide. He didn’t fancy meeting the sun any more than he wished to meet Chiyo. But he was past the point of caring about his desires.
Now there was only necessity. Duty. Honor—or whatever he had left of it.
He squeezed in next to Junpei, who faced the opposite direction. Haruki freed his sheathed sword from his sash. Beside him, Junpei did the same with painstaking slowness, careful not to rustle the rustic blanket they’d prepared. The sound of their breaths was heavy. They grew faster as a leaf crackled nearby.
She’s here.
With his thumb, Haruki popped his sword up an inch from the hilt, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice.
He never got the chance.
Chiyo ripped the roof off their hide, her nails plunging into Haruki’s shoulders as she yanked him upward and flung him aside. His body instantly coiled up from the pain as he landed.Why is she so strong?
Because she had fed one day ago. And he had fed once in decades. Even Setouchi regularly imbibed animal blood to supplement his feedings.
“Chiyo,” Haruki breathed, “stop this.”
“I’m not Chiyo anymore,” she practically growled. “I’m so much better than that.”
