Read Surrender to Darkness Online
Authors: Annette McCleave
Surrender to Darkness (23 page)
A pang of disappointment filled Kiyoko’s chest. But she also recognized that the pull between her and Murdoch wasn’t entirely of her own choosing. Something deep and undeniable drew them together, and it tended to override common sense.
“How are you feeling, sensei?” she asked her mentor.
“Fully recovered, thanks to the doctor. You, on the other hand, have not fared so well,” he responded. His gaze remained on Murdoch, his expression vaguely disapproving.
Not so vague that Murdoch didn’t get the message, though. He rose from the bed with lanky grace and leaned against the small supply counter with his arms folded over his chest. “Which is why I’m here,” he said. “I’m taking her back to the United States. With me.”
“Absolutely not,” Sora said sharply.
“It’s not safe for her to remain.”
“You are exaggerating the danger.”
Kiyoko’s gaze bounced between the old man’s frowning face and Murdoch’s resolute expression. The polite air that had marked their previous conversations was gone. But why?
“What happened?” she demanded.
They ignored her.
“You’re standing in the way of her health. Stefan Wahlberg is one of the most powerful mages in the world,” Murdoch said. “There’s an excellent chance he can heal Kiyoko. He knows of a cure for depleted energy.”
“We’ve consulted with many gifted mystics. None had a solution. Asking Kiyoko-san to travel across the world on a whim is unacceptable.”
“Staying here isn’t acceptable, either,” Murdoch responded.
“What happened?” Kiyoko repeated, louder this time.
Murdoch glanced at her. “While the house was being attacked, someone broke into the dojo and stole all his divination papers. Obviously, whatever barrier spell your friend here put on the compound was a shoddy excuse for magic.”
Her gaze slipped to Sora. “Is this true?”
He nodded.
Kiyoko tossed the bedcovers aside and swung her feet to the floor. “I helped prepare that spell,” she said. “It allows only named individuals to pass through. One of the
onmyōji
is more than he seems.”
onmyōji
is more than he seems.”
“Or perhaps the culprit is one of our guests,” Sora said, looking pointedly at Murdoch.
But Murdoch missed the slight. He was glaring at Kiyoko. “The doctor did
not
give you permission to get up.”
not
give you permission to get up.”
She smiled and stood. “Report me.”
Her ribs hurt, but not as badly as they had yesterday, and her energy level was on the rise. The bead of power in her core strengthened with every breath. The Veil might not be as effective as it once was, but it still worked.
“Kiyoko … ,” he said, scowling.
“Stop being such a mother hen. Were I a man, you’d applaud my eagerness to be up and about.” She snatched her folded clothing from a nearby chair and sidled toward the bathroom, holding the back of her hospital gown together. “I think better on my feet.”
She tucked those feet into a pair of bathroom slippers, then slid the door shut. Which gave her privacy, but not peace. She grimaced at the men’s conversation as she dressed.
“Why didn’t you tell her to stay in bed?” demanded Murdoch.
“Her spiritual energy renews much faster once she’s conscious. I trust her to know her limits.”
“She was awake when you walked in,” Murdoch reminded Sora. “You said she needed rest.”
“Perhaps I read too much into her pallor.”
“Or perhaps your ability to assess her health is as dismal as your magic skill.”
Kiyoko knotted the black belt around her
dōgi
with a sharp tug and slid the door open. “Enough, both of you. I’m not going back to bed, so let the conversation move on.” She glanced at Sora as she removed the slippers. “Was the entire oracle lost?”
dōgi
with a sharp tug and slid the door open. “Enough, both of you. I’m not going back to bed, so let the conversation move on.” She glanced at Sora as she removed the slippers. “Was the entire oracle lost?”
“Yes.”
Her heart sank. “It contained details of the ritual. That could be disastrous.”
“The oracle can only be read by a master diviner. The risk is minimal.”
“What ritual?” Murdoch asked.
“A coming-of-age ritual,” she said, her thoughts already leaping ahead. “I turn twenty-five on January eleventh. Do you truly believe your mage can heal me?”
“Aye.”
“Then I’ll go with you to California.”
“Kiyoko-san,” admonished Sora, “that is a rash decision.”
She nodded. “Precisely why it is also the best decision. If they expect us to turn left, we must turn right. The ritual will be no less effective done in the United States than here.”
“You intend to fly all of the
onmyōji
to California?” he asked, brows raised.
onmyōji
to California?” he asked, brows raised.
“No, just you and me.” She caught Sora’s disapproving frown. “We do not know who our traitor is, and I do not have time to ferret out the weasel.”
“You are not at full strength. You need greater protection than I alone can provide.”
She flicked a glance at Murdoch and smiled. “We are hardly going alone, sensei. Murdoch will be there. Did he not prove his worth in the battle against the demons?”
“His concern is for the Veil,” her mentor said. “Not you.”
“Sora-sensei.” Kiyoko flashed an apologetic look at Murdoch, expecting him to be livid at the accusation. But the Soul Gatherer was staring at the floor again, perfectly calm. “Murdoch is not so callous as you suggest.”
Her mentor was not swayed. His mouth remained tight.
Kiyoko sighed. “Fine. We’ll bring Yoshio-san along as well. Of all the
onmyōji
, I trust him the most.”
onmyōji
, I trust him the most.”
The elder nodded. “He was your father’s favorite disciple.”
“Good,” she said. “We leave for the United States in the morning.”
12
B
y the time they landed at Mineta San Jose International, Murdoch’s head was pounding. It had been the flight from hell. Seven hours of nonstop torture, courtesy of his very pleasant and affable seatmate—Ryuji Watanabe. He wasn’t sure how the man had inserted himself into their travel plans, or how he’d ended up in the seat next to him, and frankly, the reasons were irrelevant.
y the time they landed at Mineta San Jose International, Murdoch’s head was pounding. It had been the flight from hell. Seven hours of nonstop torture, courtesy of his very pleasant and affable seatmate—Ryuji Watanabe. He wasn’t sure how the man had inserted himself into their travel plans, or how he’d ended up in the seat next to him, and frankly, the reasons were irrelevant.
The fellow was obnoxiously likable. He didn’t browbeat Murdoch with conversation. He didn’t insist on the aisle seat. He didn’t even snore in his bloody sleep. The man was as good a seatmate as you could get.
No, better than good.
He used his travel points to upgrade them all to first class, shared his newspaper, and explained the work he was doing on his laptop in simple and entertaining language. He was amusing and easy to talk to.
Murdoch hated him.
Because if he had had to choose a husband for Kiyoko—other than himself, of course—Watanabe would have topped the list. Hell, as he discovered during the flight, the man was not only a savvy businessman, he was an avid cyclist and a skydiver. Smart, fit, and courageous. Under other circumstances, Murdoch could have imagined them as friends.
How bloody annoying was
that
?
that
?
“I took the liberty of hiring us a limousine,” Watanabe said, as they both tugged their carry-ons out of the overhead bin. “Less stressful for Kiyoko-san.”
“Great.”
What else could he say? It was a good idea. Just not one that fit within Murdoch’s budget.
“How long is the drive to your ranch?” Kiyoko asked, slipping a pale green trench coat over her floral dress. She stood in the aisle two rows behind him, her hand on Sora’s shoulder, and Murdoch found it impossible not to smile at her, despite his headache.
Incredibly beautiful. Even in this sea of travel-weary humanity.
“Once we clear customs it’ll take us about twenty-five minutes. We’ll get there just before dinner.” It wasn’t
his
ranch, but correcting her would only draw attention to his penury. “It’s in the hills above the city.”
his
ranch, but correcting her would only draw attention to his penury. “It’s in the hills above the city.”
Clearing customs took an endless amount of time, but eventually they made it to the waiting limo. The limo company had gone out of its way to please Watanabe and the driver was Japanese. Murdoch had to endure a few minutes of bowing and polite greeting before the conversation returned to English.
The driver grinned at him as he hefted Murdoch’s knapsack into the trunk. “The Sharks bit the Black-hawks’ asses last night, five-zip.”
“Go, Sharks,” Murdoch said drily.
Watching sports on television, instead of actively participating, had never held much appeal for him. But many of the Gatherers were enthusiastic supporters of the local hockey team, and he actually felt comforted by the familiar conversation. San Jose had become home.
He clambered into the stretch limo and took a seat next to the robe-clad Sora. Unfortunately, that gave him an uninhibited view of Watanabe curled around Kiyoko as they both looked out a side window at the passing sights, pointing and smiling.
He rolled his shoulders to relieve the tightness.
Damn it. If he could survive a bomb blast courtesy of young Carlos Rodriguez, then he could surely survive this. He’d lost his beard in that big battle last spring, but not his life or his sanity. Jealousy was not going to take him down now.
Why had Kiyoko invited the man to accompany her? It was true that she had yet to complete the review of the company financials. But why drag her company president to California to do what could have been done by phone or e-mail?
The car pulled up at the wrought-iron gate that limited access to the estate. Murdoch rolled down his window and greeted the man on guard duty in a small booth.
“Hill,” he said, “we should be expected.”
The lanky blond Gatherer smiled. “Yeah, Stefan already took care of things. Go ahead.”
“Anything exciting happen while I was gone?”
“The house is still in one piece, we haven’t seen any weird purple clouds lately, and MacGregor is still whipping our butts. So, I guess that would be no.”
Murdoch smiled as he sat back. The gate opened and the car surged up the long driveway toward the two-story ranch house surrounded by an oasis of green vegetation.
“Who is this MacGregor?” Sora asked. “Is he truly more powerful than all of you?”
“No,” said Murdoch, “not more powerful. More skilled with a sword and more cunning. The man fights as much with his head as he does with his blade. I’ve never met his equal.”
Kiyoko met his gaze. “Isn’t he human?”
“Aye.”
“So, you admit that a human can beat back demons with equal success as an immortal.”
Murdoch shook his head as the car came to stop in front of the two story house with its wraparound porch. “MacGregor no longer goes out on demon raids. He remains at the ranch to train other Soul Gatherers.”
Kiyoko frowned. “He willingly chose that fate?”
Murdoch grinned. “He’s married, with a baby on the way. The decision was made for him.”
A young woman with long blond hair descended the front steps and reached the car door before the driver had a chance to get out. She tugged it open, then stood back to let Murdoch exit. “Yay, you’re back.”
There was a time when Emily would have launched herself into his lap with a huge grin on her face. Now, all he got was a light smile. The original version was better. He crawled out. No car was made with the comfort of a six-foot-five man in mind, so it was a relief to unfold his length. He gathered Emily in his arms for a hug.
“Aye, I’m back.” Then he turned. Sora, Kiyoko, and Watanabe had filed from the car. “And I’ve brought a few friends.”
“Yeah, Mom’s been trying to figure where to put them all,” Emily said, extending her hand toward Sora. “Hi, I’m Emily.”
He stared at her slim appendage for a moment, then shook it. “A pleasure to meet you, Emily-san. I am Sora Yamashita.” He bowed.
The full round of introductions were made, and Emily adapted quickly, bowing instead of offering her hand to the others. Then she ushered them toward the front door. “Please, come inside.”
As the four Japanese climbed the steps, Murdoch whispered to Emily, “Great job.”
“Thanks.” As Murdoch made to follow Yoshio, Emily snagged his arm. “Uh, one thing, though.”
He halted. With Emily,
one thing
could be big.
one thing
could be big.
“I’m getting a strange vibe from the old guy.” The young woman wrinkled her nose. “His core energy is gold.”
Murdoch blinked. “Aren’t your mom and Lachlan gold, too?”
“Yes,” Emily said. “But that’s what I mean by strange. His is gold, but a different gold. Paler and more sparkly.”
“That’s not very helpful,” he said.
She shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I see.”
“Maybe it’s because he’s older?”
“Don’t think so. Mrs. Carlyle, my history teacher, is old and her core is the regular gold.”
Murdoch was about to suggest that her definition of
old
might be colored by her youth, but decided the point was moot. Emily was getting strange vibes from Sora. That was all he needed to know.
old
might be colored by her youth, but decided the point was moot. Emily was getting strange vibes from Sora. That was all he needed to know.
Other books
On Photography by Susan Sontag
StrategicSurrender by Elizabeth Lapthorne
What Not to Bare: A Loveswept Historical Romance by Frampton, Megan
#Rev (GearShark #2) by Cambria Hebert
Rumors of Peace by Ella Leffland
All Fixed Up by Linda Grimes
Journey to the End of the Night by LOUIS-FERDINAND CÉLINE
Blood and Destiny by Kaye Chambers
janet maple 05 - it doesnt pay to be bad by astor, marie
Rulers of Deception by Katie Jennings