Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The director of Mephisto Hospital wasn’t one to brood. Illnesses were diagnosed and treated with the same precision and the same warm, relaxed smile. And the patients certainly voiced no complaints about the services delivered.

Things went on as they always did.

However, when the hospital director grew so distant that he seemed beyond the pain and suffering of his patients, even the children said aloud, “He’s scary.”

The adults agreed. “Something’s on the good Doctor’s mind today,” they gossiped under their breaths.

In fact, Mephisto found himself in a state of mind that simply should not exist. He was concerned. Standing in front of the big desk in his office, he shut his long, narrow eyes and drew together his arched eyebrows as he worked toward a decision.

The face of the receptionist floated into view. By the time Setsura and the other man appeared next to her, Doctor Mephisto had made up his mind. A few minutes later, the three of them were sitting on the sofa in his office reserved for guests. The sound of running water could be heard in the background.

“Two in one night?” Mephisto pointed out with no little irony, “You aren’t so lucky as you are possessed.”

“Got that right,” Setsura said shortly. “It’s all straight downhill after this. Share and share alike, I thought.”

Mephisto looked at Ryuuki, sitting rigidly in the chair. “It was the same with that girl. Is there anything those filaments of yours can’t do?”

“Well, turn the screws too tightly and they’ll just croak. Then it’d be old school all the way. A stake through the heart. Cremation. Submerged in running water. But there’s no telling how effective any of these methods would be. Beheading is the simplest. Still, it’d be better to find some straightforward way to make them sing. Say, employing Doctor Mephisto’s charms and powers.”

Setsura steeled himself for a comeback. Mephisto turned to Ryuuki instead. “This one looks like he’s ready to talk.”

Setsura shot a look at Mephisto. Mephisto’s face appeared underlain with mother-of-pearl. “Well, I’ll leave it up to you then. By the way, how is Miss Kanan doing?”

“You didn’t ask earlier, so I thought perhaps you’d come bearing gifts, prepared to make amends. She’s not here. She’s in an undisclosed location being cared for by Yakou. A number of his tougher underlings are manning the checkpoints.”

Setsura said pointedly, “Whether it’s the vampire who sniffs out the victim, or the victim who draws in the vampire, there isn’t much point in hiding her.”

He was still miffed about Mephisto bringing Yakou and company on as guards, knowing they would be powerless against a frontal assault.

Unfazed, Mephisto retorted, “A doctor has the responsibility to take every step possible to insure the safety of his patients. I allow myself no exception to that rule.”

“Where is she?”

Mephisto directed his attention back to Ryuuki. “I don’t suppose it’d hurt to ask. Leave a note with the secretary.”

“Fine. I get it. What about her mom?”

“Mom. A word that conveys more intimacy than simple filial attachment. But it suggests no qualities that could help such a person in such a condition. She possesses superficial learning she mistakes for intelligence, like the hog that boasts a knowledge of agronomy because of the farmer’s tag in its ear. Anybody other than a relative would have assumed the girl had been misplaced from the morgue. But if you insist, I will lead the way and hand over the key.”

Setsura jabbed a pale finger at the tip of Mephisto’s nose. “You know, I half agree with that sentiment. But let’s give it an honest shot and see what happens. You want to draw lines in the sand, well, there’s one right here. I’ll happily shred the place to microscopic dust for the trouble.”

Mephisto looked hard at that finger and then pulled away. “Such hotheadedness is a side of you I haven’t seen before. Could I inquire as to the reason for this burst of stubborn passion?”

“A mother came searching for her daughter. In this city, anybody looking for somebody is my client.”

“So we’re all brothers and sisters under the skin, eh? Spare me the sanctimony. Reserve it for that you that isn’t you.”

“For the time being, you’ll have to settle for the me that is me,” Setsura said, his voice and face as impassive as always. Then with a wink he headed for the door, and left the room without so much as a backward glance.

Mephisto stood in front of Ryuuki and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he brought his glistening lips close to Ryuuki’s ear. “Turning your own qi back on you—that was a dirty trick. That man—however handsome he appears on the outside—is the very personification of Demon City. His single failing is that he is a lousy judge of character.”

Ryuuki wasn’t any more “out of it” than before. Setsura had employed his devil wires simply in order to transport him here. They were still entwined around him. Though his entire body was a limp mass, his head jerked around quite quickly. His eyes bored into Mephisto’s, burning with naked animosity.

Affecting a cool manner as he eyed the profile of this wrought-iron man, Mephisto asked blandly, “Can you stand up? If so, I’ll remove these filaments. Your hair and the rest of you is a bit unkempt. You may use the washroom back there. I’ll put out a change of clothes.”

Ryuuki glowered. “Whatever you are scheming, I am pledged to fight until you are destroyed.”

“I have nothing but admiration for such fighting spirits. But a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. No need for such extraordinary measures in order to take a bath, is there? I will not force you to do anything, and shall communicate whatever plans or schemes I have on my mind to you forthrightly.”

“And what would those be?”

“How about you enjoy that bath first? That glow you see around the skylight is moonlight. It will stay like that twenty-four seven. The perfect environment for a person like you, wouldn’t you say? To be sure, you will be limited to this office area, and I cannot do much about the ambience or interior decor.”

Ryuuki looked up at Mephisto. The fierce glare in his eye cast invisible sparks into the air. “I shall take you up on your offer.”

“Then you are as wise a general as you are brave. Well, then—”

Mephisto reached inside his cape with both hands. He presented his right hand. Inside his fist were several straight, gleaming objects. He opened his hand. They flew into the air and assembled themselves into the skeleton of a golden bat. It alighted on Ryuuki’s shoulder and brought its face close to the nape of his neck.

Ping! came a pleasant, chime-like sound. Mephisto said, “A bat that bites a vampire. What do you think of that?”

Ryuuki got unsteadily to his feet. Mephisto gestured toward the other end of the room with his alabaster arms. “The bathroom is there. Take all the time you need.”

The man tried to cut away the gloom. He tore it in half and in half again. Another half and another, over and over, mindlessly, to the point of madness. The darkness blanketing Demon City was total and complete. And so another half, and another—all that he needed right now.

He reached out with his arms and legs, stretching out on the dark floor. He was content as long as he had the space he needed. He was wearing a suit. Expensive, tailor-made. The price came to three months of his regular salary.

He hadn’t suddenly become a spendthrift. It’d come with a package of mid-year obon gifts. The sender surely could not have imagined it ever being worn in a place like this, below the edge of darkness.

He opened his eyes. Realizing where he was, he began crawling across the ground like a centipede or lizard. When he got to the patio, his wife was waiting there in a kimono.

“Are you awake?”

The moonlight illuminated his wife’s face, making it look even whiter and more beautiful and famished than usual. He brushed away the dirt and cobwebs and followed her into the kitchen.

Two of his children were seated at the table. The older daughter was in her second year in high school. The younger was in her first. Their parents thought them both very accomplished girls, capable of making it into Japan’s Ivy Leagues.

Not that it mattered now. They served other purposes. They lived for their parents. Literally.

“Well,” he said, turning his burning eyes on them. “It is time to eat.”

The girls tensed up, each clapping a hand to her neck. “No, it hurts.” Compared to their mother and father, their faces were far more ashen.

Tears glistened in his older daughter’s eyes. “Yeah, it really hurts. I don’t want to anymore.”

“What are you mouthing off about?” Her mother pushed back her chair and stood up. Perhaps she was hungrier than he. Perhaps her temper was shorter.

The older daughter bolted from the table toward the living room. Her mother grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and yanked her backwards. The girl let out a scream. Her sister buried her face in her hands.

The mother sank her fangs into her daughter’s neck. She shrieked. It must really hurt. There was no telling how many more times they could keep this up. After that, he wasn’t sure how long they could preserve such delicious prey as his remaining son and daughter.

Frankly, he’d be fine with getting it over and done with and turning them in one fell swoop. His wife was the one who objected. He’d gotten tired of listening to her going on about wanting to taste their children’s blood.

Mustering the minimally necessary amount of fatherly affection, he gently laid his hand on his son’s shoulder. The child stiffened and tightly closed his eyes.

Tominori Nagai, Shinjuku’s deputy mayor, settled down for breakfast.