How Not to Date a Fae Page 8

  “If,” Tama interrupted. “If they find out.”

  “When they find out, they will demand your head.”

  “They have no way to trace this madness to me, Ario-chan. I am the poor, innocent one who was forced to lie about your actions that night. I am the one who has been burdened with your death. Oh, yes,” Tama continued over Ario’s sharp inhalation. “Your death, Ario-chan. Everyone believes you to be dead. They will believe that Grandfather’s actions caused your death, and that is why I am cursed.”

  “You are mad!”

  “No, I have Western medicine to help me,” Tama chuckled. “I can have a procedure done so that my seed can be implanted into a woman and she can carry the next of our kind. I will be treated as a king, Ario-chan. I will be a king, Grandfather will be gone, and you will be a forgotten memory.”

  “Utter madness,” Ario insisted, but felt the mantle of detachment settle comfortably over his shoulders. “I cannot tell you how happy I am that I no longer have a part in your family.”

  “And if you want to keep it that way, you had better run, Ario-chan. Run far away. The old wolf has tracked you down, and when he gets to you, there will be hell to pay.”

  With nothing more to say, Ario hung up.

  Fear was beginning to settle in his stomach. What was he going to do now? He no longer had the protection of those powerful men and women he knew in America. He was a virtual stranger in this country with no support group at all.

  Damn it, he had just bought this house, and Cailte had nearly finished his back deck… Cailte!

  He had to protect him! He had to hide him. If his grandfather could not claim him, then he would destroy anything he saw as a threat to his sovereignty. His grandfather would kill Cailte.

  “What am I going to do?” he whimpered. “Ario, what are you going to do?”

  He sat on his bed, feeling shock and anger vie for dominance within his body. He had nowhere to run. He had no place to hide. He would always be a fugitive.

  “No, no, no,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. “I will not go back. I will kill myself first! No more, no more, no more!”

  He was chanting this mantra, hands tangled in his hair, unknowingly rocking on the bed, when he felt a strong pair of arms encircle him.

  “Cailte, what am I going to do?” he asked softly. “I do not want to go back.”

  “Then --” The man’s brogue was thick, his body tense as Ario leaned back against him. “Then you won’t.”

  “But…”

  “We plan.”

  And with those words, Ario calmed down and began to think.

  He was forewarned, he was not a scared child, and most importantly, now he wasn’t alone.

  * * *

  They came in the night.

  Ario had expected them to, but he still jumped when he heard the first footsteps in his living room. But he was ready for them. He was not the scared little boy he had been when they first came for him.

  He closed his eyes and pushed back the memories, the memories of the flying fists, the strangling hands, and the lashes that tore at his vulnerable flesh before he was tossed out into the night.

  He was not that same scared person, and this was his home. No one would ever have the power to remove him from his home again.

  More footfalls joined the first. Ario knew they were searching his first floor rooms. He had no concerns about them going through his personal papers or searching through his possessions. That was not why they were there. They were there for only one job, and that was to catch and retrieve the wayward insult to the gods and return him to the temple.

  It didn’t take long for the small force of five men to locate Ario, sitting on the futon in the guest room. They quietly surrounded him, taking up ready and alert stances, but made no move to touch him.

  He didn’t have long to wait. After a few moments, there was another, slower set of footfalls, moving with determination, as if every step was calculated before the person made it.

  Ario looked toward the door just as a silver-haired man made his way inside.

  “Grandfather.” Ario said the word calmly, showing no emotion.

  “Ario.” His grandfather’s deadpan face never changed expression. Grandfather was as fit as ever, his long, silver hair nearly dragging the floor. His eyes were so dark brown that they appeared black. His shoulders were broad and lean, his powerful build that of a much younger man. The mien of the elderly gentleman that he showed to the world was gone. And in its place was the undisputed ruler of the Kato clan.

  Ario looked up into the face that he had tried to love and most definitely feared and wondered how he had escaped from this man’s clutches alive. He wore his mantle of power like a cloak, something for all in the vicinity to see and fear.

  “I will not go with you,” Ario cut to the chase before his nerves gave out. He barely restrained a jump as his grandfather casually lifted both arms to allow the long, trailing sleeves of his robes to fall back and expose his hands.

  Ario remembered those hands reaching out to Tama, caressing the boy’s hair when he succeeded in reciting some obscure piece of family lore, and recalled the jealousy he felt as those hands had never touched him in anything but anger. The last time he felt those hands on his person, they were wrapped around his throat, squeezing the life from his body.

  “You will do your duty to your family.”

  “And was it not you who declared me burakumin, outcast?”

  His grandfather’s eye twitched at the word, something that was considered rude and not to be spoken of in polite company, and Ario had to suppress a smile.

  “I see your time in the west has not improved your manners,” Grandfather said.

  “What do you expect from a half-breed bastard?”

  “Shizuka-ni shiro-yo!” His grandfather said the words forcefully, his tone brooking no disrespect. And for a moment, Ario followed the command and closed his mouth… but only for a second.

  “Leave me alone, Grandfather,” Ario snapped back. “Go away! You are not wanted or needed here.”

  “Who do you think you are?” His grandfather’s eyes narrowed and the men around him began to shift as if preparing themselves for some action. “Do as you are told!”

  “Who in the hell do I think I am? I am Ario Kato and I will not do as you say!” Ario had winced at his grandfather’s break in temperament, but his anger was greater than his fear. “I am the child you threw out of the temple, the only life I knew, and cast into the street. I am the spot that you and your network of thugs tried to erase but failed. I am the Atashi-wa, the feminine little upstart who built a business for himself on his merits and with the sweat of his body and turned into a franchise. I am the man, Grandfather, who refuses to bow to you or your outdated traditions any longer. You have no control over my life anymore. You have no say in what I do or how I choose to do it. You are nothing to me, Grandfather. I am blind to your very existence.”

  “Buta! Yariman!”

  “Yes,” Ario nodded. “But this pig and this whore will be staying right here.”

  His grandfather’s eyes flared for a moment, before he shook his head at his wayward grandchild. “What a real pity,” he muttered. He turned to his men and took a step back before casually announcing, “Take him.”

  But before any of the men could move, there was a low thump, the sound of leaves rustling, a flash of red, and a wind that nearly knocked the surprised men off of their feet.

  “I do not think Ario will be going anywhere.”

  Cailte had arrived, and by his stance and the large sword he hefted, he was one very unhappy man.

  “Akage?” Grandfather asked, arching one graceful eyebrow as he looked from Ario to the man standing before them, brandishing a large sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.

  “Yes, his hair is red.” Ario fought to hold back a smile as he thought of his first amazed impressions of his lover. “Very red.”

  “I don’t see what is s
o fascinating about my hair,” Cailte growled at Grandfather, “when I am standing before you in a battle stance.”

  Ario watched as Grandfather looked Cailte over, from the top of his head where his loose hair flowed around him like a cloak, to his moccasin-shod feet. Cailte had donned the clothing he arrived in proudly, and it only added to his regal air.

  “I am fascinated by your appearance because you are no threat to me.” Grandfather’s words were spoken in a matter-of-fact manner, showing he truly had underestimated Cailte. Could he not feel the buildup of magic within Ario’s lover?

  “You do not fear my steel, old man?” Cailte chuckled. “Brave of you.”

  “Indeed,” Grandfather replied as his men shifted restlessly. “But would you be so kind as to introduce yourself? I will have to harm you in retrieving what is mine, and I find it rude to do so without a proper introduction.”

  “Of course.” Cailte nodded, not relaxing his stance one bit. His broadsword was held easily in his left hand vertically before his chest, his arms not straining or the muscles shaking as they held the heavy weapon. The dagger clutched in his right hand was held a little higher than the sword, but also vertically across his chest, guarding his upper body. He gave a nod and a small bow, his knees never leaving their flexed position.

  All in all, it was a beautiful stance, one that showed familiarity as well as experience.

  “Cailte mac Ronan.” He tilted his head and smiled wider at Grandfather, making Ario’s heart flutter in his chest. “Best man and warrior of the Fiannan Army serving to uphold the virtues of our king Cormac mac Art. Nephew to Finn mac Cool, leader of the Fianna.” He cast a glance at Ario, making the young man flush slightly under his gaze before he added, “Lover and consort to Ario Kato.”

  Even Grandfather seemed impressed by the litany of titles and familial connections that Cailte casually tossed out, even if he looked a little perturbed by Cailte’s addition of Ario in a formal introduction.

  “And you, sir? Who might you be?” Cailte’s words were polite, though the condescension in them was clear.

  “I am Kato Kouki, the seventeenth O-Tagata Jinja of the Kato line, and that is all you need to know.”

  Ario inhaled at that rudeness, but before he could say anything to defend his lover, his grandfather nodded, and one of the men drew a gun.

  Ario had not expected that. He jumped to his feet, his red robes fluttering about him like wings as he started forward.

  “Nothing vital,” Grandfather muttered and stepped back again as the man aimed his small caliber handgun at Cailte’s leg.

  “No!” Ario screamed. But his words were drowned out by the report of the gun. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see his lover’s blood spilled on the hardwood floors.

  “Try harder.”

  Cailte’s voice made Ario rip his eyes open to stare in disbelief at his lover. Cailte had not been shot. Had he been able to dodge the bullet?

  The amazed look on his grandfather’s face said no. The new nick on the edge of Cailte’s sword said no. The new hole in the wall above his plaster door said no.

  His lover wasn’t bulletproof, but the man was fast enough to deflect them.

  “Impossible,” his grandfather stammered.

  “No,” Cailte corrected him. “Not impossible. Unlikely. What is impossible is your getting Ario out of here over my still breathing body.” That remark was punctuated with one of his wide grins.

  Then there was a rush as three of Grandfather’s entourage ushered the old man out the door. As Ario watched, the two remaining men began to square off and encircle his lover.

  “You might want to get out of here,” Cailte called to Ario.

  “But…”

  “When I made the pact and became fae, pointy ears and the ability to speak to animals were not my only gifts, love. I have been called fleet of foot, and I have a fair ear.”

  As he spoke, the man with the gun fired again, and this time Ario watched as his lover lunged to the side, bringing his sword up in a sweeping motion, and again knocked the bullet out of the air with a small ping before it could reach its target.

  “Go on, Ario. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Ario was brave, but he wasn’t a fool. He darted from the room, moving toward his bedroom where he planned on locking himself inside until he was sure his grandfather and his thugs were gone and waiting for his lover.

  He was frightened, but damn if Cailte didn’t sound like he was enjoying himself.

  He took two steps down the hall and then gasped as something wrapped around his chest while a hand covered his mouth. His eyes widened as he kicked backwards, striking the knee of the man who held him, and jerked himself free.

  “Not a child,” he growled, spinning around while bringing his fist up in a wide arc. It caught the black-suited man across the side of his head, stunning him enough for Ario to dart past.

  “He might have a gun, Ario,” he groaned to himself as he watched the man stagger back. So instead of furthering the confrontation or getting trapped someplace where he would be an easy target, Ario decided to race toward the steps.

  He was a fool to think his grandfather would give up so easily. He would take to the forests if need be, find a place to hide, or separate his grandfather’s minions and take them out one at a time.

  He made it to the first floor when the feel of magic nearly brought him to his knees.

  Ario gathered his wits and ran toward the back door, the closest access to the forest and the farthest escape point from the driveway. If his Grandfather was out front incanting…

  He got the sliding door open, took one running step and froze.

  His grandfather stood on the nearly completed deck, his hands locked before him, his eyes narrowed as ancient words flowed from his mouth.

  “Iie,” Ario shouted, trying to force his limbs to move, but unable to.

  “Do you think you are the first runaway novice, Ario?”

  “I -- I wa-was n -- ot a n-n-novice,” he stuttered, fighting against the magic that wanted to compel him to remain still.

  “You were removed from the temple before you were fully trained,” Grandfather explained coolly. “And, as I have said, you are not the first novice Komiko to run. Lots of our kind ran. That is why the ancestors created this spell, Ario. While you are in its bindings, I can do anything I want with you.”

  “B-but…” Ario struggled to speak. “W -- e are n-not in the Tem-temple!”

  “But you were thoughtful enough to create this deck out of the sacred wood, yew, were you not?” Grandfather arched one eyebrow. “Yew is a conductor for our magic, boy. That is why the phallus in the temple, the walls, the scrolls, even the floors were made of yew.”

  Idiot! Ario cursed himself several times over. He had not known that the wood conducted their magics. He had his home built in the yew forests and used the yew planks for his deck because they were a minor connection to home. Now it looked like his nostalgia would bring about his end.

  “Relax,” his grandfather chanted, and Ario’s muscles began to feel like flowing water. “I will remove you from all of this, and we shall return to the temple. You will cure Tama, and I will begin your retraining immediately.”

  Grandfather moved as he spoke, confidently walking over to Ario and reaching out to caress his face. “You are of my blood. There is no denying that, boy. And by the time I am finished breaking you fully, you will never again want to insult our bloodline by running away.”

  Ario tried to force his limbs to move but nothing was responsive. A feeling of defeat rushed over him and, to his shame, he could not even lower his head in defeat.

  “What is this?” his grandfather muttered. “Tears, Ario?”

  Ario had not even noted the warm tear that rolled from his right eye until his grandfather ran his finger through it. “For your strange barbarian lover, I assume?” He tilted his head to the side, staring at his grandson. “You know that a Komiko is destined to never have love. How can
you create love in others if you use your powers to create it for yourself? Selfish child,” his grandfather chided. “Still, I commend you on finding someone with obvious magical blood. If you behave, we may take him with us. I believe having him around will help keep you in line.”

  It was then that Ario began to give up. Had his grandfather worked some kind of magic on Cailte? Was his lover even now being trussed up and carried away, doomed to the same enslavement that awaited Ario?

  “I believe that I will have to work the same spell on Tama.” Grandfather chuckled. Ario felt his breathing stutter as his grandfather moved in close, speaking directly into his ear. “I know you were warned about my coming, Ario. Do you think for one moment that I would allow Tama to rule my temple in my stead while I am still breathing? I know about his little plan to besmirch me and play the role of the innocent. I still cannot believe that I fell for his lies concerning you all those years before. But he was childish, jealous, and I… Well, I did not like to admit that one such as yourself could carry the powerful magical lines of my ancestors. It is a pity that the legitimate heir is so… rude.” Grandfather smiled at that. “But by now, he has been dealt with, his juvenile plotting has fallen apart, and I have a wonderful spell for control and behavior with which he will soon make his acquaintance.”

  It was too much! And Ario could not even scream or bellow his anger and frustration. He was trapped inside his body just as surely as his body was trapped into following the will of his grandfather.

  “Come along now.” Grandfather stepped back, placed a seal with several characters in kanji, and Ario felt his legs following. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

  “Not as far as you think!”

  The small voice and the puff of dust surprised his grandfather into stopping.

  Despite the spell, Ario felt his eyes widening as Merrick suddenly appeared, leading an army of squirrels and rabbits.

  He even managed a small croak of shock when the pixy shouted, “Attack!” and the small animals did.

  Chapter Eight

  Cailte felt it, the pull of magic that was somewhat similar to his Ario’s, but more menacing. It threw him for a moment. Only his quick reflexes saved him from getting hit with one of the projectiles flowing from the weapon that one of the remaining men shot at him.