A Reason to Live: A Shadowdance Variation (2 page)

Illyana knew that living in a world without
Adriana would be difficult. It proved far more difficult living in
a world in which Adriana would never speak to her again.

She had watched Adriana from afar, had been
there when Adriana finally tracked down Yukio in 1912 and, to
Illyana’s surprise, defeated the Asian vampire. Illyana had wanted
to reach out to Adriana but had stayed her hand for fear of further
reprisal.

Several years later, Illyana found a suitable
replacement—Dominique.

During her duel with Yukio, Adriana’s blood
spilt upon the throne in the Daughters’ lair. That blood seeped
into the ground beneath the throne, where former Daughters
matriarch Cytheria had buried Dominique nearly a century
before.

The blood revived Dominique.

Once Adriana had gone, Illyana freed the
Dominique. The girl was little more than an undead husk in dire
need of blood and care. She had no memory of her life as a Daughter
of Lilith assassin, no memory of her life with Adriana.

Illyana took it upon herself to nurse
Dominique back to health, adopting her as the daughter Adriana
would never be. It was enough to sustain Illyana in her loneliness
as a vampire. She chose to keep Dominique in the dark about her
true heritage.

This proved a nearly fatal mistake.

Illyana’s charade had lasted into the 1970s,
when a fateful encounter with a vampire named Kara destroyed the
charade. Kara was one of the last Daughters of Lilith, having
survived Adriana’s seventy odd years of vengeance. She restored
Dominique’s memory. Worse, she revealed Illyana’s connection to
Adriana, whom Dominique still held guilty for leaving her behind
during the Revolution in France.

Angered at Illyana’s deception, Dominique
convinced Kara to stake and imprison Illyana until she could devise
a suitable punishment. Illyana was revived in the late 1990s by a
new masked face—Fatale, the new leader of a revived Daughters of
Lilith.

At Dominique’s request, Fatale released
Illyana from her prison. However, a Daughter would shadow her for
the rest of her unnatural life. That Daughter’s sole purpose was to
drive Illyana to melancholy and keep her there.

Should Illyana attempt to end her unlife, the
Daughter would prevent it.

It appeared that vengeance ran deep in the
family Dupré.

TOKYO, JAPAN

SEPTEMBER 2013

When Illyana entered central Tokyo’s Tsukiji
Fish Market, she noted a distinct lack of visible security and
personnel. This was particularly odd because daily deliveries
occurred in a few hours. The world’s largest wholesale fish market
should be better prepared than this.

Despite her disdain for the Daughters of
Lilith, they had taught her to be keenly observant of her
surroundings.

Illyana used the Daughters’ teachings to
press blood to her eyes, turning the whites red. This allowed her
to see inanimate objects as cold blues and blacks. She could see
the circulatory systems of animate, living creatures.

Illyana noticed the blood of several men
armed with assault rifles trying to hide in the shadows. The men
made no attempt to stop Illyana, leading her to believe they were
waiting to spring some sort of offensive.

It was exactly as she had planned. She
thought it fitting that, since she lost Adriana here, she should
end her torment here.

End herself here.

Upon arriving in Japan, Illyana had contacted
an Initiated mercenary she had known from her days as an assassin.
Through them, Illyana identified an establishment that was a front
for Japan’s criminal underworld—the Yakuza. She had specifically
chosen the Okimoto clan because they were rumored to have an
Initiated enforcer.

Destroying several illegal gambling and
prostitution dens led Illyana to knowledge of an incoming shipment
of ecstasy. She wasn’t trying to be altruistic. She didn’t care
about stopping activities that prompted an unfortunate rise in the
nation’s gambling addiction and teen drug overdose statistics.

Murdering Yakuza and disrupting their
operations with just enough use of the supernatural would draw out
their supernatural enforcer. She’d need this person to either
destroy the Daughter on her tail or to kill her in the melee.

The arrival of the shipment was a trap set by
the Okimoto clan. There probably wasn’t really a shipment either.
Regardless, Illyana walked into the trap with eyes wide open,
hoping that, in the end, her eyes would be shut forever.

Walking brazenly through a back area
forbidden to the public, she finally heard what she was waiting
for: the cocking of the firing mechanisms on those assault rifles.
She let the blood flow away from her eyes and took in her
surroundings through her normal vision.

Illyana had stopped in the middle of an aisle
wide enough for two forklifts to move abreast of each other. Large
containers storing incoming fish were stacked on shelves on either
side of her. Above her, conveyor tracks held mechanical arms that
would move the containers throughout the market. Above these tracks
were catwalks for maintenance and unhindered movement to anywhere
in the market.

A person interested in self-preservation
would dive for the safety of the containers. Illyana stood her
ground. She caught a glimpse of two Japanese men in slick business
suits standing up from behind a railing above and behind her. They
trained their assault rifles on her and fired.

A barrage of bullets ripped through her
torso. Illyana was just under six feet tall. She had not quite an
athlete’s frame but was far from a skinny waif. Still, there wasn’t
much to Illyana for the bullets to pass through. There wasn’t much
left of her once they did.

Illyana fell to her knees, her arms dangling
at her sides, barely mobile. Her head hung low. Her blood pooled at
her knees, leaking from the myriad bullet holes perforating her
undead body and ravaging what little remained of her atrophied
internal organs. Being a vampire, these wounds would not kill her,
but the pain made Illyana wish it would, and quickly.

Seconds later, the lethal rain of bullets
ceased.

All around her, silence and the smell of fish
and gunpowder.

“I bet that hurts,” a dainty female voice
said in Japanese from the shadows.

In the late 17th century, Yukio, the Daughter
who had brutalized Adriana back in 1902, had taken Illyana and a
few other Daughter assassins to Japan. Their mission there was to
learn Japanese forms of combat and mysticism. Learning the native
language had been part of the deal.

Illyana had just enough remaining muscle and
tissue in her neck to raise her head.

Moving together in an eerie unison, the two
men in slick suits moved to the aisle via a set of metal stairs.
Stopping a few yards in front of Illyana, the men stood shoulder to
shoulder. Their rifles were trained on Illyana, smoke billowing
from their barrels.

After a moment, a shimmering black mist crept
up from the ground behind the two men, stopping at a level beneath
their shoulders. It expanded into a human shape. In the next
second, the mist evaporated. The men stepped aside.

A woman stood behind the Yakuza riflemen. She
was young, barely out of her teens. She had the wild colored hair
Illyana had seen on the kids who hung out in the bookstores reading
manga. She was impeccably dressed, but her conservative dark pants
and sleeveless top seemed ill suited to the personality her hair
and facial piercings inferred.

Illyana’s contact had given her the name of the
Initiated Okimoto enforcer—Keiko Kitsune. Judging by this woman’s
flashy entrance, Illyana had found her.

Keiko stepped forward, skipping to a position
directly in front of Illyana. She used her foot to raise Illyana’s
head up so she could look her in the eye. Illyana fought back the
pain arching through her body. She had no contempt for Keiko. This
was going exactly as she planned.

Studying Illyana, Keiko turned her head
slightly to one side. “You don’t look so tough,” she said. Then she
pressed Illyana’s head up with her foot. Keiko spun around and
slammed the heel of her foot into the side of Illyana’s face.

The vampire launched away from Keiko, falling
flat on her chest a few feet away from the Japanese girl. The side
of her face kissed the market’s concrete flooring. She stared into
space, getting a horizontal view of the ground.

A moment later, Keiko’s expensive-looking
boots walked into Illyana’s blurred line of sight. The girl
squatted down, hugging her knees with her arms. “Master Okimoto
worked very hard to provide a safe haven for those with addiction,”
Keiko said. “Other clans may think he’s weak, thanks to you.”

Keiko paused, staring at Illyana, trying to
figure what she was about.

Illyana continued to bleed.

“My master is curious as to why you targeted
him,” Keiko continued. “He wanted me to get the answer out of you
however I could.” She stood, leaving only her lower legs in
Illyana’s view. “I honestly couldn’t give a shit.”

Suddenly, Illyana felt the men lifting her up
so that she was back on her knees. One of the men grabbed a swath
of her long blonde hair and yanked her head back.

Illyana blinked, fighting back the pain. She
saw Keiko standing a few feet away, her back to Illyana and her
men. She held her left hand out to her side as if she were holding
something. A burst of black mist surrounded her hand, and then the
shape of a sword handle formed.

The mist extended away from the handle like
liquid metal, forming a slightly curved blade . The black mist
danced around the sword. The blade ended in a deadly, pointed
tip.

Its work finished, the black mist
dissipated.

Keiko looked over her shoulder at
Illyana.

“Bodies drained of blood,” she said. “Could
you be any more obvious?”

Keiko turned fully to face Illyana. “My
master and his rivals don’t like it when Eurotrash vampires try to
stake a claim here.” Keiko giggled, raising her hand to cover her
mouth as she did. “See what I did there?”

Illyana didn’t give Keiko the
satisfaction.

The Japanese girl walked to Illyana’s side.
“I know the bullets won’t kill you.” Keiko moved her enchanted
katana so that the edge of its blade rested on Illyana’s throat.
“This will.”

The man holding Illyana’s hair forced her
head down so that she stared at the ground. He let go of her hair
so his arm was clear for the blow that would sever Illyana’s head
from her spine.

Her only regret was that in all these years
she had earned neither Adriana’s understanding nor her
forgiveness.

The men’s grip on Illyana’s arms loosened
unexpectedly. Both men fell forward, taking her with them. Once on
the ground, Illyana got a good look at one of them. The back of his
throat had a gash straight through his spinal cord; it was a wonder
that his head had remained attached. Blood flowed readily from the
wound, a wound Illyana calculated was made by a three-inch-wide
blade.

She knew she’d find the same wound on the
other man.

Illyana remained where she lay. She closed
her eyes, having seen this scenario many times since the mid-1990s.
Several Daughters had held the responsibility for carrying out
Fatale’s curse on Illyana. Her recent watcher was particularly
efficient.

“This woman is under my protection,” came the
Daughter’s voice from behind Illyana. She spoke in Japanese so
Keiko would understand. “I like seeing her in pain, but she can’t
be killed. Not by you, anyway.”

“And who the hell are you?” Keiko asked.

“Not that it’d matter to you, but I’m
Geisa.”

Geisa Barros.

She was a dancer from Brazil, tall and lithe,
in her late teens when turned. She kept her skin a pleasing,
sun-touched bronze through many daily feedings. Geisa had no pangs
of morality in using the Uninitiated as cattle.

Under the tutelage of the Daughters, Geisa
had mastered the art of capoeira, a Brazilian fighting style that
included dance-like movements: flips, handstands and other
acrobatic maneuvers coupled with deadly strikes.

The Daughters had commissioned for Geisa a
pair of boots with retractable daggers in their soles. That’s what
had caused the wounds on the Yakuza thugs who had held Illyana.

Illyana heard Keiko’s expensive shoes scuffle
away from her and stop. She would not flee in terror. Oh no. From
what Illyana had learned of the girl through her research into the
Japanese underworld, Keiko was too proud for that.

Or too obstinate.

Illyana heard the swoosh of air as Keiko
swung her katana about. If her intent was to intimidate., it
wouldn’t work. Geisa routinely killed little girls like Keiko with
a single swing of her foot.

Finished showing off, Keiko said, “I always
love a challenge. Will you be a challenge, Geisa the Brazilian
supermodel?”

Daughter of Lilith assassins were beautiful
as a rule. It caught their targets off guard. Insults such as
Keiko’s were never paid any attention.

For Geisa, it just pissed her off.

Illyana heard a subtle shuffling of feet near
her. She recognized the sound as Geisa gently rocking back and
forth, preparing for her deadly dance.

It wouldn’t be long now.

“If you were so brave, little girl,” Geisa
began in a tone of finality, “you would have left your friends at
home.”

Illyana thought back to when she had entered
the market. She imagined all those Yakuza who lay in wait as bloody
piles of flesh, slaughtered silently by Geisa without knowing from
whence their death had come.

In the silence that followed Geisa’s
statement, Illyana imagined Keiko weighing her options in light of
the information that all of her lackeys were dead. Would Keiko
trust in her skill, or find self-preservation more rewarding?