A Note from the Author:

I really liked the idea for this one, but it didn't come out as good as I had hoped. ^^;; I would have just scraped it, but with me it's hard, once I've written something, to re-write it completely from scratch. So, yes. There it is.

I would also like to thank all of those who have read my two meak little fics and left reviews. ^_^ And to answer someone's question (sorry, I have a horrible memory...) Yes, there will be a sequel to Kitsune Tears. It's called Of Mortals and Mistresses, so keep an eye out for it. It'll be on its way soon. Promise.

ja!

~ Guardian

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Part One: The Kumo no Onna

::Kurama . . . ::

Kurama hesitated for a moment and glanced over his shoulder, his green eyes slightly narrowed as if what he saw - absolutely nothing; an empty sidewalk - was not what he had expected to see. With an ease born of practice he tuned out the loud, albeit familiar sounds of Yuusuke and Kuwabara joking and fooling around, accompanied by Keiko's scolding and Yukina's soft, timid laughter. They were all heading home after a night of second-rate dinner and a movie or two - to which even Hiei had attended, although it had taken Kurama nearly an hour to cajole him into it. But all night he had been having the weirdest feeling, like he was being . . . watched. Followed. And not just as if something were Hunting him. - No, he remembered that feeling all too well, and it wasn't quite similar to this new feeling. It was like whoever was watching him was . . . analyzing him. Sizing him up, although for what, he wasn't sure.

::Kurama . . .::

"Hey, Kurama! What's up, man? You getting paranoid or something?" Yuusuke called to him from where he stood, his arms wrapped around Keiko as he half-danced her around the sidewalk. She was laughing, and playfully reached back to hit his thigh as he grinned.

Kurama offered the two of them one of his quiet smiles - the kind that had always made the girls at his school swoon. "Perhaps, Yuusuke." He glanced back again, his voice lowering a bit as he once again tried to separate one nightly shadow from another in hopes of revealing the hidden creature that had kept such a keen eye upon him all night. "I can't shake this feeling, though . . . that something's watching us . . ."

"Mm . . . a smart one, then. Intriguing . . ."

Kurama whirled to face the husky purr of a voice - only to find himself staring at the face of a brick wall. Immediately his eyes fled up, following instinct alone, to behold a woman casually laying upon her back, pressed against the wall, lounging upon the stone as if it were a couch of velvet blankets instead. Immediately he stilled from the defensive crouch in which he had fallen, just as Hiei flittered from the shadows surrounding to stand guard by his side.

The woman on the wall appeared pleased by the strangled shouts of surprise the rest of the Reikai Tantrei gave - as well as the gawking that ensued from the two most human of the males in presence. She gave them all a smooth, liquid smile, lifting her left shoulder in a single deliberately seductive movement - just enough to cause one thin black strap of her clothing - or lack there of - to slip down. She was dressed in what only a naked woman would consider as moderate wraps - a plastic-leather halter that framed every curve of her breasts to cut off abruptly beneath, cut just so as to appear as if it were dripping down the slim curve of her belly. Settled at a rakish angle upon perfectly formed hips hung a thin, black-leather belt, from which in turn dangled random, multiple strips of some indefinable cloth that resembled silken sheets of black webbing. This shimmered a dusky silver-grey as she moved, drawing first one leg up and then another in slow, wanton movements that allowed just enough flesh as to be improper to be seen. Wrapped around her arms were a pair of black-netted gloves that hooked just at her thumbs and drew high to her elbow - around her upper-arms were banded twin tattoos of spider-webbing, each marred only by the presence of a single pale golden-and-rose butterfly. These had been touched up with some shimmering paint or such and sparkled beneath the waxy light of the street lamps as she moved - the beauty a strange and startling contrast to the plain, almost sickly tone of her grey-tanned flesh. Her hair was some-what short and untamed, creating a slightly wild halo of black that was tinged in the darkest shade of red and framed the slim, cool perfection of her face. Her lips were full and almost pettish with a teasing, seductive pout to them that hinted upon deadly innocence, coupled with the solid black coloring that lay just so upon them. And her eyes . . . where they lay narrowed in slits as she tilted her head back, hinted at being such a sharp color of a dusky metallic iron shade, interlaced with jaded tones of black and red and grey. Each were sliced through by a single black line of pupil - cat's eyes that dug poisoned claws in Kurama's soul by mere sight alone.

Beneath, upon her neck, lay a black-leather collar, studded with tiny spikes that somehow resembled spiders; from it dangled a single, white-gold butterfly that lay nestled comfortably within the dipping hollow of her throat.

In short, she was every convict's favorite wet-dream.

Kurama slowly lifted an eyebrow, watching as she writhed and moved seductively against the wall, seemingly oblivious to the acts of gravity. Beyond him Yuusuke and Kuwabara were frozen in shock - their jaws practically hitting the ground - while Keiko and the girls grew visibly flustered. The woman knew how beautiful, how deadly she looked - and how each turn and aspect of her very being hinted at shadowed desires and the unspoken, primal needs of every mortal. She was lust incarnate, and well she knew how to flaunt her charms.

She arched against the wall, tilting her head back again as her leg drew up, causing the web-like tatters of her skirts to flow aside and reveal one perfectly formed thigh all the way up to the turn of her hip. She gave a second faint smile, just enough to reveal straight white teeth - marked by two long, sharp fangs.

"Kurama . . ."

"What do you want?" Kurama lowered his chin. He didn't know this woman - had never seen her in either one of his lives - and yet she was somehow familiar. It wasn't a memory - more an instinctive sense of familiarity, made surreal by the fact that she seemed to have virtually no youki . . . although she was obviously a demon.

The woman's lips parted in a silent, smiling gasp, apparently pleased at the fact that he was unmoved by her appearance as well as her actions. "Just you, koinu . . ."

Hiei snarled, leaping forward, drawing his katana as he did so in preparation for an attack. "I wouldn't do that, darling." The woman whispered, tilting her head and letting it fall back to rest against the wall as she languidly writhed again. Instantly Hiei stilled, his sword only half-drawn.

He growled, baring his fangs in a guttural snarl of rage. "Kisama!"

"Ah, young jealousy, not yet newly formed." She purred, closing her eyes and shifting once more, one slim arm drawing up to curve above her head in a fully conscious motion of sensuality that caused every noticeably feminine part of her appear more-so. "How . . . precious." Smiling again, she glanced at the others in the savoring manner of the cat who has caught her mice, and was picking, choosing - slowly and with the utmost in leisurely power - the one with which she would dine upon first. "Move." She instructed in a bare-threaded whisper, lifting her hand to motion almost lazily to the side; with strangled shouts and muffled shrieks the Reikai Tantrei found themselves wrapped within grey-black webbing and lifted, held still and immobile where they had stood - all but Hiei, who was still caught within her spell, his muscles straining against it as hard as he possibly could. Tiny wisps of black smoke were beginning to arise from his arm, but whatever spell she had cast it was a strong one and prepared for such things; he was only able to summon a minute portion of his ki - not enough to even called his black fire. She watched this in pleasure for a moment, before she then turning her gaze back to Kurama, piercing him clean through to his youko soul as her eyes flared that dark, molten silver shade again. "And now . . .for you."

There wasn't so much a flicker of speed as a shifting of reality from one radius to another - and she no longer lay elevated upon the wall, but stood upon the ground, only a leap away from him. Her head was bowed; she stared up at him through ragged black locks of hair as she slowly, tauntingly advanced. Kurama tried to step back, tried to move away, and yet he found he couldn't. Whatever spell she had cast upon Hiei was now upon him as well and held, strengthened by the enigmatic flare within her eyes that he simply could not look away from. She was stalking him, smooth, reptilian in her movements - spider-like, a part of his mind noted, although she was slower than the creature of her being, for she took her time, lingering upon each step as if to taunt him. Or rather, not him, but -

She reached up and framed his face with her hands, guiding him to lower himself, to kneel before her. He was helpless to stop her, his body strangely pliant and obedient as she willed it so. Her hands were cold like ice upon him and he grimaced, yet could do no more. Seeing that flinch, sensing his unease and wary panic, she smiled as she leaned closer, her lips parting to reveal those sharp saber-like fangs. "Don't be frightened, koinu." She whispered for him alone. "This won't hurt a bit . . ."

And yet still, he flinched as she gently bit his lower lip. She smiled at this, and then - with Hiei's muffled roar of fury echoing in the alleyway behind her - she kissed him. Barely had her lips touched his own before she forced his to part; tilting his head back, she kissed him deeper still, leaving the others to stare in shock at the sensual, erotic display of feminine power over masculine beauty. He did not kiss her back, yet in a way he did not need to, for all the enthusiasm he lacked, she made up for, her tongue slipping past his teeth before he had even gathered his wits enough to realize what she was doing.

It was like being kissed by a snake; fast, smooth, fierce and deadly. She tasted of all things forbidden; of late nights out and hidden secrets, of evil deeds and masochistic delights. She tasted of poison . . .

His eyes snapped open, yet she still would not release him; his gaze clouded over in fear and pain before his eyes squeezed tightly shut once more. A soft, pleading whimper was the only sound within the silence of the night; a single tear slipping down his cheek was the only hint to his plight. This was followed, mocked, by a thin trail of dark black liquid that escaped the movement of their combined lips, slipping free from the corner of his mouth.

Slowly, gradually, the woman eased the near-violent kiss as calmly as she had begun it, leaving him weak and trembling where he kneeled. His eyes were dulled by a haze of drug-induced sleep, a vague, illusive type of fear the only emotion hinting within them before he slipped from her grasp to collapse upon the ground at her feet. She looked down at him, then kneeled by his side, on hand moving out to hover in passing gesture over his mouth and chest. This, of course, was punctuated by a third snarling curse - as well as a noticeable weakening of the spell she had cast upon the fire-demon. She airily glanced over her shoulder to see Hiei forcing himself to take a step forward, sweat gathering on his brow as he battled to lift his fully drawn katana in stance. A dark, thick cloud of spirit-flame surrounded his whole form now - not just his arm - and cast an eerie, ice-black glow that illuminated him against the normal backdrop of the mundane night. She watched him, too, for a moment, her lip inching up to bare a single fang.

He matched the grimace with a baring of his own; she appeared delighted and rose to her feet, moving to stand before him as she had Kurama. With every step closer she came, the spell condensed and grew stronger, until it was thrice the power it had been. Hiei snarled as she reached out to him - he even tried to bite her fingers, yet she easily dodged this, her hands darting forward to catch his jaw and tilt his head back. He was ready for her; if she even came close, he was going to sink his fangs into her throat, and perhaps she knew this. Or perhaps, her intention had not been to kiss him as she had Kurama, after all.

- For she was smiling as she leaned closer, and she was smiling as she softly, almost tenderly kissed the ward covering his jagan. Her cold hands were almost gentle as she turned his face to the side; her voice was almost a purr as she whispered in his ear, "The poison of my kiss, hotaru, only lasts until another is given."

She drew back, petting his cheek, tapping the end of his nose lightly as his fangs clicked shut a bare inch from her retreating hand. She glanced once at Yuusuke, at Kuwabara, at Keiko and Yukina, before giving them each a lovely, swirling-dance of a bow, her web-like skirts flowing in the air around her. And then, as quietly, as mystically as she had appeared . . . she departed.

Hiei surged forward and fell to his knees as the others were likewise dumped unceremoniously to the ground; cursing, he quickly made his way to Kurama's side, shouldering Yuusuke out of the way as he did so. Yukina was already there, her tiny hands glowing a pale, surrealistic blue shade. Tears were gathering in her eyes; a muffled sob escaped her lips as she found that she could do nothing. There was no actual wound - only a poison that was slowly making its way through his system - something that even the most talented of Healers could not erase. Hiei growled thickly in the back of his throat, bristling, his hand clenching tight into a fist by his thigh. His crimson gaze lay intently upon Kurama's face, bidding him wake - unsuccessfully - by force of will and fury alone.

"Did she look . . . something like this?"

A book was set before him - an ancient, dusty book with pages that were old and crinkled and yellowed with age. He glared down at the strange, archaic writing on one page before transitioning his gaze to the other -

He snarled, just as Yuusuke, who stood just beyond his shoulder shouted, "Yeah! That was her . . . only she didn't have those wing things . . . are those wings?" Yuusuke grabbed up the book and held it an inch from his nose, squinting to try and make out any form of details within the picture lain before them.

"They could be considered wings." Genkai was staring at Hiei, whose expression was down-right murderous, and whose hand had not left the hilt of his katana since they had come to her temple. Kurama's unconscious body had been placed on a blanket in the other room; for the past hour Yuusuke had been relating the night's events, while Genkai listened in an effort to find the reasoning and the cure for the strange woman's poison. The first step was to find out who exactly the woman was - thus the necessity of confirming that the picture within one of her ancient books was the correct one.

Yuusuke grimaced, turning the book on its side - as if that would help make the sketch any more clear than it already was. "They look like scraps of cloth."

"Webnets." Genkai took the ancient book from his hands - almost snatched it, as a trace of aggravation momentarily took place of the sensei-calm she normally exuberated. "They are scraps of netting made of spider-webs." Carefully she shut her volume and replaced it on the shelf where she had retrieved it. "The creature you met in that alleyway goes by the name of the Kumo no Onna. She is, in the most basic of descriptions, a goddess." Genkai's hard eyes bored into Yuusuke, Kuwabara, and Hiei in turn - lingering upon the last. "You are dealing with no mortal, here."

"Ah, we can handle her!" Yuusuke brushed her warning off airily; he got a club upside the head for it, too, and blink dazedly as Genkai frowned.

"You only think you can handle her because you are ignorant! This is not one of your everyday demons you run up to, fight, defeat, and run about your merry way. This is a being that is immortal - that has been alive since the beginning of Time and even before. This is a creature just as powerful as the God of Death, himself."

"Koenma?" Yuusuke reared back a little, with a weird, disbelieving look upon his face.

"No. Koenma is only the son of the God of Death." Genkai folded her hands within her sleeves and met his gaze. "I am speaking of Enma Daiou. Come." She guided them over to another set of shelves, where she pulled out an ancient book about as thick as Kuwabara's head. "For all your activities within the Reikai, you have only been skirting the whole of the Beyond. There are a thousand gods and goddesses - both of human as well as demon. Each is just as powerful as another, although they are still classified as Greater and Lesser gods. Enma Daiou and his son - being the Gods of Death - are considered of the Highest level." She split the book and flipped through about a fourth of it before showing them an illustration of Enma Daiou and Koenma on the left page, and a sketch of a tall, graceful young woman on the opposing page with the name "Eien" scrawled beneath it. "In the second level, there includes the gods that are familiar and common to many humans and demons. Kami, for instance, and Inari." Hiei scowled at the two sketches that appeared as she flipped through another few pages. One - with the word "Inari" scrawled at the bottom - faintly resembled Kurama, although it was definitely feminine, and had a golden mane as opposed to silver. "The Kumo no Onna is a god of the third level - not quite so widely known as the others, yet as I stated before, just as powerful." Another few pages were flipped, to show the dark creature of earlier on the left page, opposed and balanced by an exceptionally beautiful young goddess with long, sun-blonde hair and gentle features, dressed within flowing gowns of white and gold. "Her kiss, they say, is of the most deadliest poison, and can be cured by only one thing."

Yuusuke - who was looming over Hiei's shoulder, since with Genkai's height she appeared to be showing the pictures to the fire-demon more than anyone else - was the first to form his thoughts into a (somewhat) incomplete question. "Which is?"

"She is balanced, power for power, ability for ability, by the Kochou no Otome." Genkai indicated the pale, blonde grace on the opposing page. "Where the Kumo no Onna's kiss brings death, the Kochou no Otome's kiss brings life. Her kiss is the only antidote."

The poison of my kiss, hotaru, only lasts until another is given.

Hiei's fist clenched around his sword-hilt. "Where?" He barked gruffly, a single fang digging into his lower lip in a silent half-snarl. Genkai glanced his way coolly, before shutting the volume she had and replacing it once more.

"It is not so much a where, as to a how."