Chapter One

Chapter One

Officer Hyuuga pressed his free hand against his stomach. He didn’t appear to be in pain.

“I’m hungry,” he said, looking at each of their faces.

The Elder stepped forward. He gestured to Yakou. “I presume that you remember my grandson.”

“Oh, yes. I remember very well.”

He felt around his windpipe with his left hand. Every word seemed forced out of his lungs by the sheer pressure of the blood and bile within, like a geyser about to erupt.

“You really came to my rescue. Oh, I must thank you for that. Maybe a couple of days in my police box lockup will put the fire back in the belly? Some nightly handiwork with a straight razor. A little here, a little there. Lap up the blood and teach you a good and proper lesson. With guys, you know, the tip of that. With girls, it’s tits and nipples. Tiny slices. Like scratches. And she’s shaking all over. It’s the pain, you know, and not knowing what’s coming next. Lick it up real gentle-like. Suck at ’em like a baby. Drives ’em crazy. A guy like me sucking up the blood on those sensitive parts. Show ’em the razor again, all shiny and glittery. Maybe down to the arteries this time. Things going my way would really help, you know. Plant that thought in her mind and she’s lifting up her tits and sticking ’em in my mouth! ‘More! More! Please! Suck on me!’ ”

The man stared up in an ecstatic trance, searching the faces of the four for signs of sympathy and approval, drunk on his own erotic fantasies.

“A most interesting case,” mused Mephisto, staring coolly down at him.

The victim of a true vampire absorbed some of the personality of its sire. The trigger of bloodlust also bared the victim’s own animal nature. In that case, the vampire who’d sucked the blood of this police officer was a demon from the depths of perdition. Not a fragment of humanity remained.

“Before taking my grandson to task, there are a few questions I must ask you.” The Elder’s kindly face did not waver. “Who is your sire? Where is he hiding?”

“Sire?” Officer Hyuuga glared at the old man. “Nobody like that here. But while we’re at it, old man, after your grandkid, you’ll do fine. I’m not picky. I’ll show you a helluva time. Heaven on Earth.”

“If you do not answer the question promptly, I will show you Hell.”

Twin flames flickered in the darkness. In the officer’s eyes. He leapt from the casket. The black whirlwind in the shape of a human bellowed as it circled the Elder’s head.

A scream erupted. The cry spun like a revolving siren and crashed to the floor, writhing and tearing at the dark blue carpet. The Elder raised his right hand and clicked his fingers together. A crisp sound rang out. The darkness lifted and the day appeared.

The whirlwind spinning around on the floor gradually took on the shape and form of Officer Hyuuga. Exposed to the light of day, the freakish twisting of the officer’s limbs suddenly stopped. Not because the agony had lessened. But just the opposite. The redoubled agony shooting through his nerves brought every bodily function to a standstill.

The brightness from the windows diffused throughout the room, painting a white spot on the floor.

An inarticulate grunt. A groan. Made by the cop on the floor. The thing that looked like a cop. Rasping and gurgling. What happened next would now and then revisit Setsura in his dreams.

The sound of the mewling officer crawling along the floor. The flesh of his face growing slack and folding under its own weight, gathering wrinkles like skin that soaks too long in a hot bath. And then peeling away. Beneath the peeling skin, slashes like cuts of fresh salmon peeked out. Beads of blood welled up.

The legendary question of what became of a vampire exposed to the sun was being answered in living color.

“What think you? I would assume Mr. Setsura Aki and Doctor Mephisto are used to seeing such spectacles.”

Mephisto shook his head. “No, I’ve never witnessed it before. Haven’t had a vampire patient under my microscope. What about you?”

“Who in their right mind would ask me to look for a vampire?” Setsura countered. “I’ve heard from Shinjuku cops that they burn right up, leaving only the clothing behind. But maybe they’re just telling tales out of school. Hey, what’s this?”

Officer Hyuuga started to crawl away. This time not motivated by ordinary agony, but with a definite goal in mind—toward the gurney, where a rectangular shadow fell beneath the casket. Bracing his limbs, he moved forward like a climber attacking the vertical face of a mountain wall. Itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout—

Human face, hands and feet attached to a uniformed insect. But with every move he made, the surface of the skin rippled like waves and sloughed off. Where his fingers came into contact with the floor, the flesh crumbled like pastry. And when he exerted himself, dark red pus oozed out from the cracks.

Through it all, the muscles and tendons beneath remained intact. The oozing fluid and rust-red scabs created a grotesque layer of defense.

“It seems that sunlight only dissolves the dermis,” Mephisto observed, enormously intrigued. The kind of observation to be expected from a doctor.

“It is slightly different in our case,” the Elder said.

Setsura wondered aloud, “So distinctions can be made according to ethnic origins?”

The blood and gore-besmeared demon squirmed at his feet as the conversation continued. The average onlooker might well find their attitude and the dispassionate tones they conversed in even more frightening.

“Very true. Just as distinctions can be made according to blood type. Depending on the race and the life force of the individual, the negative reactions can differ wildly.”

“In other words, this one’s as tough as a long-lived vampire.”

Mephisto shot Setsura a glance. The Elder paid the remark no mind. He reached out and pulled the casket closer to him.

The officer grunted and growled. His resentment was clear in the inarticulate sounds. His fingers had only been inches away from reaching the shade.

“Aargh—” His tongue lolled. He gulped and gasped, “Help—me—”

His fingers scraped against the floor. The tips of his shoes skidded on the carpet. He barely moved forward an inch. His fingers touched the shadow. The gurney moved again, the same distance he’d covered. The cop had no more energy in him. He stretched out on the floor like an old torn towel.

“Stop—it—help—me—” His voice hissed out like a small puncture in a tire about to go flat forever.

“Even if he ceases to dissolve, the pain does not?”

The Elder nodded. “There are no further changes to the tissues, but the nerves do not stop responding.”

“And what if you threw him out in this condition?”

“He would probably go mad from the pain.”

“You don’t say,” Mephisto remarked in a curious voice. “That is something I would like to see.”

“In any case, we must get to the questioning. Please pardon the unpleasantness.” The Elder crouched down in front of the cop. “We don’t want to go through all this again, do we? But I will not ask a second time after this. Who is your sire and where may we find him?”

The officer contorted his indescribable face. The air escaping from his mouth grated like the breath of a patient on his deathbed. His lips trembled with every gasp. The scabs fell from his face like the petals of a dying flower.

“Can’t—tell—you—”

A slight flicker in the expression on Yakou’s face caught Setsura’s attention. Stubborn bastard, he was probably thinking.

The Elder rubbed his bald head. “We jumped right to the most effective method, but he is still holding out. Unavoidable measures must be taken.”

Setsura and Mephisto exchanged looks. Yakou’s reply clued them into what he was referring to. “Grandfather, we cannot expropriate his sire’s authority.”

“I said it was unavoidable.”

“Against such an opponent? The people living here are not without other recourses.”

“This is only my intuition, but seconds count.”

The room grew silent. Setsura Aki and Doctor Mephisto sensed an unspoken dread expanding far beyond the reach of the old man’s words.

The cold undercurrents reverberated in his good-natured voice. “He woke me from my sleep and defied a trial of sunlight. More than our lives are at stake. No, in fact, depending on how this wheel of fate turns—”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but his actions did. The Elder reached out and grabbed hold of the officer’s hair and wrenched his head back. The bones in his neck creaked ominously. More slabs of skin fell off.

“Whoa—wait a second—” Setsura hastily interrupted, realizing that the Elder’s attention was focused not on the officer’s face but on his ravaged neck.

What happened to prey who had already been turned into a vampire being bitten once more? Fear and comprehension played across the officer’s face as he realized what was coming.

The Elder’s lips touched the raw red flesh of his throat. The officer howled, the roar of a beast. Leaving half of his hair behind in the Elder’s fist, he transformed again into a whirlwind and blew through the room.

No one lifted a finger. Not because they didn’t understand what he was up to. But because his flailing about was utterly without reason. The tumbling, spinning, uniformed figure smashed into the wall opposite—and then—it could only be on purpose this time—moved to the left.

“Hey—!”

The officer glowed like a white flare in the direct sunlight from the window. A second later, he flew backwards with tremendous force.

The body lay still at their feet. “Good job,” said Yakou. He’d detected Setsura’s filaments coiled around the officer’s legs.

“What?” Setsura answered lightly, glancing down at the Elder and Mephisto, who were examining the officer’s eyes.

“He’s quite insane.”

“And that makes him quite useless. We should dispose of him.”

“Simple madness can be treated. Our only clue is this policeman.”

“This may sound cold, but more such clues will surely be forthcoming.” The implications in the Elder’s words sent a shiver down the back. “I don’t mean to offend the good doctor, but when one of us goes mad, raising the dead would be easier than finding a cure.”

The ring on the doctor’s left hand glittered. “I won’t insist, but how would you dispose of this police officer? Everybody is asleep in Toyama right now.”

“The security guards are well-versed in staking techniques. Though they’d be a lot happier doing it to a ghoul.”

The Elder snapped his fingers three times. Despite being in a completely airtight concrete structure, the front door opened a second later. Two guards—different ones from before—stepped in.

“We shall dispose of him according to our methods,” the Elder stated in a businesslike manner. He motioned for Setsura and Mephisto to sit down. He nodded his head. “I’m sorry for creating such an unsightly mess. This is my fault.”

“Nonsense,” said Setsura, waving his hand. “Who knew he’d try to off himself? His sire has proved as bothersome as any opponent I’ve faced before.”

“And they are likely to feel the same way when they meet you.”

“What’s that?”

“I had heard the rumors, but this is the first time I have seen Setsura Aki’s famous threads in action.”

Setsura answered the Elder’s praise with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Until he was yanked backwards, I was not aware that they had entwined around him. My grandson is not a man easily taken aback, but even he appears impressed.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Providing it was you, I’d happily leave the whole matter in your hands, and entrust as well the fate of those of us who have found here a place where we can live in peace.”

“How’s that?”

“I consulted with Doctor Mephisto before you came here. The four who arrived in such a strange manner on Fifth Street are at the root of the evil on display. More is to come. As an eyewitness, you alone will know them when you see them.”

“Well, one hopes so,” Setsura answered vaguely. He was beginning to guess where the conversation was headed.

“Pardon my forwardness, but I would appreciate it if you would accept this.”

The Elder placed a golden card on the coffee table. It was a multipurpose debit card, good for cash, shopping, telephone services, and buying and selling information, as well as for personal identification.

“Last night, soon after waking, I had my bank issue it. It draws on my account. Use it as you see fit. If you will search for those four Chinese.”

“You mean you’re hiring me?”

“That was the first thing that occurred to me when I woke up.”

“Unfortunately,” Setsura explained, “I’m here with my client.”

The Elder turned to the Doctor. “So I’ve been beaten to the punch. But the doctor and I share the same objective. We’ll simply split it down the middle. No, I’m not trying to dictate the course you should follow or the methods you should take. Think of that card as a means of guaranteeing your ability to act in whatever manner you see fit.”

“A man can’t serve two masters. My policy remains first come, first served. Any information concerning those four will go through Doctor Mephisto.”

The Elder sighed. “I should have expected as much. Understood. I shall rely instead on the good offices of the doctor and withdraw. But with respect to Yakou, there is one thing I would like to get a consensus on.”

Three pairs of eyes focused on the young man standing next to the Elder.

“Some sort of shared connection must have led him to the police officer as well. Yakou should take part in the search. I do not see a downside to the two of you acting together on this. Shinjuku’s best manhunter having an extra pair of hands certainly wouldn’t impose too heavy a burden?”

“But—”

The taciturn Yakou said, “Though I am new at this, I don’t see myself getting in your way.”

Setsura shook his head. “Without any experience—”

“I worked as a private investigator in London.”

“As an assistant to Sherlock Holmes?” joked Mephisto. “No, sorry. Whether Setsura takes you on as an assistant is up to him. I’m sure he could use the help. I should probably establish a line of credit for him as well.”

“Whatever.” Setsura added, coolly spurning the offer. “I’m not looking for an assistant right now.”

The Elder turned his eyes imploringly toward the heavens. “That is too bad. If you change your mind, though, let us know. Regardless of the time or place, Yakou will be there.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Setsura replied graciously. He crossed his legs and laced his hands together on his knee. “What else can you tell us about that gang of four I saw?”

Something glittered in the darkness at the back of his mind, the koto’s haunting melody flitting about that beautiful countenance. He could even remember the words.

Crossing the waters we’ve crossed before

Seeing the flowers we’ve seen once more

Spring breezes along the riverbank roads

Before we know it, we’ve made our way home

Changing tack right now might not be a bad idea.