Okay, focus, Kaoru thought, closing her eyes to picture the knot better. Megumi's crying - of course she's crying - but you can't do anything about it if you don't get loose!

"So salt water really does affect Witches," Goren said thoughtfully. "How much salt does it have to be? Doesn't look like it's much, if all Shinomori had to do was soak your ropes... wow, I guess potato chips are kind of out, huh?"

"L-low sodium foods," Megumi gulped. "And forget soy sauce... oh gods, those things are getting closer..."

Kaoru could almost feel the detective's shudder as steel thorns inched within a hand's breadth, but his voice stayed level. "Chinese is off the menu, huh? Ouch."

Good guy. Keep distracting her. And... got you!

Cords unwound from her hands; Kaoru dove for her feet, trying to ignore the pins and needles from blood flowing back into bruised wrists. Over, under, through - there!

Free, she snatched up her chair; slashed it awkwardly across the floor, steel embedding into wood with a hungry whine. "No. You. Don't!"

"Behind you!" Megumi wailed.

Kaoru ducked a flying sliver, smashed her chair against the polished floor. Once, twice-

Leg, leg, just give me - yes! Not the length of a bokken, certainly not the shape, but it'd do. It'd have to.

Move!

She wove a whistling defense around her people, tainted steel thunking into wood it couldn't warp, or screaming against metal already dug in. Breathe, move, parry-

Sweat stung Kaoru's eyes, dripped down the small of her back as she registered stillness. They stopped?

"Whoa," Goren breathed.

"They're just regrouping," Kaoru panted, studying the still half-full box of thorns. "You didn't meet Jin-e. He was awful. And persistent."

"Handcuff key in my left sock," the detective noted.

Oh. Good. But- "They move the most when we're not looking," Kaoru pointed out.

He gave her an odd half-smile. "Guess we'll have to trust your timing."

You trust it more than I do- Wait. That sounds like someone running! Raising her improvised weapon, Kaoru prepared to ambush whoever was coming back.

"Kaoru!"

"Misao!" Kaoru dashed to the doors as a mini-whirlwind of long braid flung them open, wood spanging against flying steel. "Get them loose!" And Dad thought trying to figure out Soresu was just an excuse to watch Star Wars. "And duck!"

"Eep!" A map thudded to the floor, pinned by angry thorns. Misao hand-sprung and leapt across the room, knife slashing down through salt-soaked ropes. "Aoshi gave us a way out Battousai got the other security we've got to go!"

"Aoshi what?" But the shock didn't keep Megumi from moving; she went after Goren's sock, keeping herself as small as possible as handcuffs clicked loose.

Misao gulped, hands busy with Eames' gag. "I think he's trying to help us but it's like he really can't and - ohmigod, that's a body..."

"Yeah. And it's not going to be us," Kaoru said grimly. "So-" Words died on her lips.

Eames worked spit into her mouth, drew a sharp breath. "What?"

"Something's wrong," Kaoru whispered, chilled. "Something's really wrong." Something that felt like night and terror and blank, inhuman faces...

"Virus!"

---------

Thump.

Beshimi glanced at Hyotokko.

Thump.

"So he's banging on the door again," the clay Animate shrugged.

"He's not yelling," the Rakshasa said uneasily.

Hyotokko snorted. "The Okashira's got the override codes. He's not going-"

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Rrrrr...

"-Anywhere?"

"Override to the override," Beshimi grumbled as the door began to pivot open. "Takeda-san! Surely you know the Okashira thinks it safest for you to remain-"

White light slashed out like noonday sun.

---------

"Stay-" Thump. "Down!" Smash. "Coat this wood in silver and see how you like it-"

Yahiko gulped, and decided not to sneak any closer. "Sano!"

"Hwhah?" Swaying on his feet, Sano staggered back from the groaning were-tiger. "Ooough... since when are you twins?"

Yahiko caught the agent as he teetered, giving a subtle push the other way. "I think Kenshin got him."

"You mean 'Sai," Sano objected, heading toward the fallen Okashira in an unsteady trudge.

"Uh-uh." Yahiko shook his head. "Kenshin."

"Your mouth is open, I could swear you're talking - it's just not making sense." Sano blinked at the blue-violet glint in Kenshin's hands. "Great. You got it. Now what are you going to do with-"

Claws bit into iolite. Stone shattered.

Yahiko blinked as multicolored powders sifted out of pierced silver, drifting on the air in shimmering veils that made his skin crawl. "What the heck's that?"

"Black magic." Violet eyes were narrowed, glinting steel-blue with pure fury. Claws closed, crumpling silver into a twisted ball. "The blackest of all, that prisons mind and soul."

Sano gave his brother a look. "Don't tell me you think he's one of the good guys."

"I've no idea; that I don't. But Misao loves him, Sano. And if she could see past Target Alpha's dread to befriend such a fearsome creature as Battousai..." Kenshin dropped the remnants of the ring into the pouch he kept between layers of gi, and granted the agent a sober glance. "We owe him at least the chance to decide he is not our enemy."

"Right," Sano drawled. "You don't mind if I call Uramura while he's making up his mind, huh?"

That drew a weak laugh. "Likely wise."

Half-listening to Sano start arguing on his radio behind them, Yahiko scooped up a bit of sliced saya. Swallowed hard. Aoshi cut through it like wood. "Are you okay?"

"No," Kenshin admitted. "But I will be." A tired smile. "I'm not so easy to kill, that I am not." He blinked. Frowned.

"What?" Yahiko said uneasily. Both guys on the floor were stirring; and though the guy Sano had hit was holding his head like somebody'd poured a heavy metal concert into his brain, the Okashira's gasp for breath raised all the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Yeah," Sano's growl cut across his worry, "well tell Falconi I really don't think we need the bazookas this time-"

"Bring them," Kenshin bit out, voice hard. "Bring everything."

"Say what?"

"Virus!" A grab, a sudden absence of floor - and Yahiko found himself shoved into Sano's surprised grip. "Get Yahiko out of here!"

"Misao," Aoshi breathed. Rose to his feet, one swift flow of white.

And that was the last Yahiko saw, as Sano hauled ass back down the stairs. "What are you doing - Kenshin's going that way-!"

"Kenshin can jump out a damn window and claw his way down the building if he has to!" Sano snapped back, never slowing. "If they're inside, they've already got the elevators, kid - they cut us off from the stairs, and we are toast! You got me?" A tooth-jarring thump, as he took the first landing at speed. "Damn it, stop being a teenager and think!"

But he promised he wouldn't leave me, Yahiko wanted to wail. He promised!

But- if Sano's going down, that means Virus is up-

Clutching his bokken, Yahiko thought of his teacher, and tried not to scream.

---------

I'm going to find the bastard who took down the sign "Twilight Zone next left", Alex Eames thought grimly, running at speeds she hadn't hit since high school. And then I'm going to shoot them to death. Starting with the foot.

Death was breathing on their heels; clicking, whining gears, the whip of metal tendrils, the odd crackle of static as one metal monstrosity brushed near another.

But no words. No words at all.

No words on their side, either; only panting breath, the skid of feet, the white gleam of young women's faces pushed beyond terror into a horror so dark Alex shuddered to think of it.

They'd rather jump out the windows than get caught, Alex realized. They'd rather-

Die. They know they'd die.

Megumi glanced behind them, and cursed. "Jubilee!"

Fireworks exploded.

How did she-? Alex risked a glance back where the foremost creatures were now tangled in each other, understandably dazed by what seemed to be a whole Fourth of July load going off with them as the centerpiece.

But the ones behind them were still coming.

Don't worry about the fireworks, just keep moving... Wait, why is the ceiling-

"Eyaauuughhh!"

Something huge crashed down; Alex dove forward, felt something sticky smack her face anyway, involuntarily raised a hand to wipe off-

...A piece of clay?

"You!" Kaoru waved wood at a cat-eyed creature with smoke rising from his skin, as if half his face had been stuck in a blast furnace. "I ought to- If we were-"

Bobby grabbed the kendo teacher's shoulder and pulled, never slowing down, even when a mass of mud lumbered up from the ceiling-shards in the shape of a man. "Forget killing him, keep going!"

Stairs. Echoing. Empty. A way out.

Misao flung open the doors, and lead flew.

---------

So Virus has mastered its hunger enough to use weapons, Aoshi realized, fluttering up unnoticed through the withering hail of bullets from the Virus two floors down. Hyotokko and the others had managed to lock the stairwell doors behind them, but already metal fists were punching through; a moment more, and they'd be besieged from both sides. This bodes ill for us, and all the world.

A very Okashira thought.

It's still there - I thought the ring's destruction would shatter it, but it's still there. It's not fair!

Yet fair had left his world five years ago; why should now be different? The Okashira no longer ruled him, at least, and Kanryuu's contract was shattered wholly-

But the Okashira's chill still gripped his soul. He stood divided; the numbed, breathing person that had won bare minutes of freedom to be this past half-decade - and the master of onmitsu, who saw a threat to his men and his kunoichi he would not tolerate.

I don't know... who I am...

A metal fist withdrew from a hole in the door; something black and boxy poked through in its place. Not the right shape for a gun muzzle-

Beshimi wailed, trying to gather a glob of black venom in one seared hand.

White light lanced out, harsh with an undertone of purple. The white butterfly shuddered, not knowing why.

Hyotokko shrieked.

Shape-shifting, Aoshi touched down in crumbling clay; unable, for a heartbeat, to believe his own eyes. But there was a hole eaten straight through the golem's heart, that spread and seared and scattered him like-

Sunlight.

No!

Plastic was sizzling where Beshimi's blow had found its mark. Metal snaked through the hole in its place; grim and tearful, Kamiya starting beating it with steel-studded wood.

"Okashira..."

Clay drifted through Aoshi's fingers, gray dust. Blood roared in his ears; the detectives were yelling something, and Kamiya was clutching a grazed arm, white-faced, and Misao-

"Aoshi-sama!" She grabbed his arm and held it, even when his glare sent Beshimi cowering back. "We need you!"

Ninja are born only to die, that chill within whispered. We do as we must to complete our missions, for the life of the clan. But there is no contract here, no employer. No mission.

Protect the clan.

"You need these." Their guns had fit easily in his trenchcoat pockets; he handed them to the stunned detectives. "Your shots are unlikely to kill. Make them count."

"Oh, and now we're supposed to believe you're on our side-" Eames started.

"I'm sure you've noticed we're kind of stuck," her partner jumped in, taking a potshot through one of the holes in the doors. "What do we do?"

Aoshi's lip curled. "Survive."

Metal smashed against metal below; shrieking, tearing, shuddering-

The gunfire stopped.

"Ah. Himura." Aoshi picked up a yelping kendo master. "Catch, Battousai!"

"When I get my hands on you...!" Kaoru's shriek cut off in a falling yelp, and harsh breaths.

Aoshi glanced down two floors and a turn below, where red hair was bent next to black in a crushing hug. Smirked. So he did catch her.

"Oh no you - Aoshi-sama!"

Another yelp and smack of flesh on cloth told him Misao was safely down. He glanced at Takani.

"You Kin think strength is everything." Dark humor crinkled her eyes. "Inertia, Okashira. If Ken-san tried to catch me, I'd pull him right over the edge."

He tried not to redden.

"Besides," Takani whispered numbly, "It's me they want."

"You?" Eames pounced.

"So we go the long way," Goren broke in, seizing Takani's arm with one hand and gathering his partner with a jerk of his head as he stampeded down toward the others. "Down is good, down is very good..."

Not as good as you may think, Aoshi thought darkly. We don't know how many floors Virus is on. It plans. I doubt those were its last ambush. "Beshimi, go!"

Clay drifting from his claws, Beshimi gave him a jerky nod.

The rest was nightmare.

Light died even as they fled; Virus, using its mastery of the building's circuits to leave its prey blind and helpless. Only that searing white cut the dark, again and again, knives of light like noonday sun.

Some kind of UV weapon, Aoshi realized, as yet another shot sizzled past his shoulder. Must have limited range and time-on-target, or Virus would just lay down fire through the whole shaft... who built those things? And when can I feed them to Shikijou?

Down and down. They were faster than Virus; that was the hell of it. Without the UV blasts, they'd be pulling ahead and gone, faster Kin carrying the slower members of their group if they had to. With them-

Metal struck like a snake, sinking circuit-fangs into his shoulder. He slashed at it with his kodachi, dread chilling him as razor-sharp steel glanced off the armored tendril.

So it will drink me here... Oh, Misao, if only you could fly-!

But that would have meant abandoning Takani. And that, he would not do.

Virus is a threat to the clan. It will not be allowed to achieve its goals.

No matter what the cost.

He could not win, no. But he could still fight-

"Okashira!"

Beshimi's venom-laced claws did what mere steel could not - cut the feeding tendril into sparking pieces.

No, you fool! Virus knows where I am-

White light seared down.

"We were... always honored to serve you, Okashira..."

Dust scattered over him.

And he knew, knew the ring was gone, for he could feel... he could feel...

Grief. Rage. Hate, deep and black as gale-torn ocean.

No one kills one of mine!

Yellow light spilled into the stairwell, and a roar shook the world.

---------

Never thought I'd be so glad to see a wall of riot gear, Kenshin thought disjointedly as the emergency exit flew open, pushing Kaoru and Misao ahead of him into the safety of Uramura's team. Megumi and the detectives were a few stumbling steps behind; bloody, sunburned, and all but out on their feet with shock.

But they're alive. He let his eyes half-close, reaching out to the welcome fire of Sano and Yahiko's ki, some yards away in a Target Alpha armored van. We're alive.

"Let me go!" Misao's voice was high, thin with tears. "I have to get to Aoshi!"

"Stockholm," Agent Levinson muttered under her breath. "It's okay, kid, everything's going to be all right now... soon as we level this place."

Kenshin snapped a glare at her. "You can't have gotten everyone out."

"Hey, work with a drug dealer, you take your chances." Rachel glared back. "They're murderers. What do you care?"

"Sagara reports this place is full of Virus," Uramura said grimly, taking in blood and bruises with an amazed shake of his head. "Himura. You know what they'll do if they get away."

Feed. Kill. Destroy souls. I know.

But Aoshi's still in there!

Battling down fear, he dashed back inside.

Not this way! part of his mind yammered at him. Virus is this way - I don't want to go this way!

This, Kenshin told himself dryly, taking the stairs on trembling legs, is when I could really use a talking sword. Nothing like a cool, calm, controlled assassin in your head to drown out little things like sanity.

But Battousai was only a steely spark of pain and a near-inaudible whimper. The runes had hurt the sword-spirit, he could sense it.

I'm here, Kenshin tried to reach out to steel. I'm still here. Just hang on. You've got to hang on.

After all, who else is going to tell me what an idiot I was after this, right?

Blood and chaos.

Mounting another landing, Kenshin swallowed bile, shivering as crimson dripped down the stairs past him. The scent of tiger fur and opened bowels hung in the air. Shikijou went down hard. Kami - is there anyone left to rescue?

There. Just barely.

He dove into the steely knot by Han'nya's smoking form, cutting Animate and Ubo loose with sloppy zantetsu. Shishou would be furious... forget proper form, we'll work on it later, just stay alive! "Run!"

Slipping, stumbling, they weren't going to make it-

Fire screamed overhead.

...And I thought Sano was joking about the bazookas.

The blast rolled them out to the sidewalk. For what seemed like forever, Kenshin just sat there, twitching at explosion after explosion as black-masked Target Alpha members he'd never met stepped up to the doorway just long enough to fire in munitions that looked all too familiar.

Rachel caught his horrified stare, and grinned, all angry white teeth. "Caught some Persian Ekimmu ready to make trouble down by JFK a few weeks ago. Shame to let good shoulder-fired missiles go to waste, don't you think?"

Too much hate, Kenshin shuddered. Too much death...

Aoshi was kneeling on the sidewalk with empty eyes, Han'nya's body crumbling in his arms.

I've seen enough death!

Only a flicker of ki left in the wire-laced form; he chased and caught it with a claw-grip on striped cloth. Closed his eyes, envisioning that frail flame. Reached within his own shredded strength. Offered it, a splinter at a time, tinder to a dying spark...

Live. Live. You saved Misao; you tried to save Aoshi. You are not evil. Live.

Let me save something from this horror...

The spark flared.

Hands on his shoulders. Rough, but known. He would not strike them.

"Idiot-" made it past the roaring in his ears, "-why do I always-"

Pulse against his lips. No!

"Look," exasperation now, "you know I'll shoot you if you take too much, so just stop worrying-"

Ah. Permission.

He abandoned himself to the warmth, and the darkness.

---------

Lost - lost and alone - I can't feel, I can't feel - Kenshin!

Claws bit into flesh. Someone swore in Polish.

You! Battousai snarled, pulling himself past mystic agony as if fighting quicksand. Slashing out, teeth and claws and feet, at this enemy he knew all too well. Oh, you will not have me helpless in your grasp again, vampire...

"You know," Goren's voice carried, faintly amused, "I wrap cats up in a towel, first."

Battousai blinked, breathing hard. I am breathing. I have breath. I have a body.

A battered and bruised body, paper crinkling under him; an examining table, it felt like. His claws were touched with a black-haired Polish vampire's blood, and his fangs-

Tasted of Sano.

Kenshin?

:So tired...:

Then rest, my heart, he whispered gently. Only - tell me what happened. I was so worried. One moment he'd been with his bearer, ready to fight to the death - the next, slammed into blind steel with the pain of a lightning strike. I- I thought you were going to die...

A weary chuckle. Images unfolded shyly; risks, guesses, fear...

Well done.

Surprise.

Very well done, my own, Battousai repeated softly. I can carry us now. Rest.

Exhausted agreement. The other-self curled up next to him, drifting into slumber.

"Kenshin?" Sano ventured.

"He is - sleepwalking, I think. Or something very like it," Battousai said thoughtfully, glancing about the vampire doctor's overfilled examining room. Everyone seems here, and only lightly wounded. Good. "We are well enough. Though I am still," he ducked his head, embarrassed, "thirsty."

Sano snorted. "Yeah, like you ever feed enough when you're worried about people-"

"You can't just take over your host and say you're fine!" Dr. Doctor snorted, tying off a bandage around his arm. "Get back in that damn sword and let me talk to-"

"Kenshin is asleep," Battousai said coolly. "I will not disturb him simply for your convenience." He set his feet on the floor, testing the odd feel of his ki within flesh. "And I did not take him over. He is at rest, and allowing me to walk freely."

"That's impossible," the vampire said flatly. "Every moment you're in control of the host body injures the holder. We know that."

Battousai lifted one red brow. "Spellbound to a host, it was impossible," he agreed mildly. "Now, it is not. I have told Target Alpha before; I will say it again. Kenshin Himura is my bearer, not my host. I will not harm him." Free. I am free, as I have not been since-

Kyoto.

The Demon of Kyoto. Han'nya knows me...

He wove through the crowd of weary bodies, ruffling Yahiko's hair, granting Kaoru a shy smile. Stopped before a shadowed corner, where Aoshi sat watch by Han'nya's battered form, the Ubo's hand cuffed to steel claws by heavy, enchanted iron. And there is watchful ki, if tired, close outside these walls... so Target Alpha has us all under guard. Why am I not surprised? "Intelligence master."

"I admit surprise, hitokiri." The Animate's voice was a thin, tired whisper. "Of all the powers it was known you still held in Target Alpha's keeping, healing was not one of them."

"What?"

Battousai ignored the sputtering vampire, focused on the thin mask-slits staring back at him. "It was known I could heal?"

"The survivor of those sent to take you at Yamagata's command reported your cub was struck by a spiral dart," Han'nya stated. "No child could have survived that without aid."

Yamagata. The confirmation was a cold chill down his spine. Yamagata Aritomo, Revolutionary turned head of Japan's armed forces, who had ever feared the redheaded assassin guarding Katsura Kogorou's back.

But Katsura released me, he recalled, wisps of memory swirling up like smoke. He promised - promised! - the government was done with me. That they would never trouble me again, so long as he lived-

Katsura - died only months before the attack...

"Inuits heal!" Dr. Doctor was snarling. "Sidhe heal! Cursed swords can't-"

"He's done it," Sano said bluntly. "Shut up, damn it!"

"Hmph." A drawer rattled. Footsteps stomped off toward the clinic refrigerator.

Ignore him, Battousai thought, heart hurting in his chest. His eyes prickled, hot and wet. He does not matter. Only this matters. "Kenji survived that night."

"He did," Han'nya said warily.

"Did he..." The sword-spirit had to swallow. "Did he survive London?"

Stunned silence.

"My first bearer died there," Battousai said thickly. What is this pain? Like a knife to the heart, oh gods... "I remember telling Ame to take Kenji and flee, and then-" Too much. Shuddering, he sank to one knee; head bowed, eyes burning. "If I have won any debt of honor from the Oniwabanshuu, tell me!"

He could hear his own breath in the stillness. Why was it so still?

"I regret that most of our clan records have been lost," Han'nya said carefully. "Even if they had not been, your... final defense... of your family was apparently fatal to our team. There was, quite simply, no one left to report."

No. He felt hot salt spill free, let red bangs fall forward so his honorable enemy would not be forced to see. No, it's not fair...

Kaoru swallowed audibly. "So... Texas is going to try frying the thorns I caught?" she said into the grim silence.

"Yeah," Sano coughed. "Cement Dragon seems to think that took care of what was left in the building, so - yeah." He laughed a little. "Too bad you missed it, 'Sai. Haven't seen an Elemental step up and hand out a smack-down like that since the last time Red Moonrise tried to hit Liberty Island."

"There's one of those dragons on Liberty Island?" Eames gulped.

"Nope." Sano's grin was audible. "Elementals take forms that fit their dominions. So Liberty Island is - well, remember Ghostbusters II?"

"Please tell me he's joking," Eames said faintly.

"Flaming torch and all," Misao giggled.

"It's true," Megumi said softly. Some hope seemed to have crept back into her eyes, shy as a young sparrow. "The anger of a City Elemental is a wonderful sight. Though I doubt Virus thought so."

"Whole building - whoosh," Yahiko nodded hard. "Cinder city."

"And Target Alpha's going to explain that how?" Megumi murmured.

"Don't know, don't care," Sano said dryly. "We get at least one sick day tomorrow, and I'm taking it."

Yes, Battousai thought tiredly, blinking to clear the drops from his eyes. A day away... will be good.

"Here," Dr. Doctor growled under his breath, handing a sloshing bag of red to Aoshi. "Orders say to keep you alive until upstairs figures out who gets your hide." The dour vampire smirked, the chain that linked his lip to his right earlobe glinting in the muted light. "I hear it'll be a fascinating discussion. DuBuccio seems to think Battousai dragging you out is a point in your favor. Uramura and Falconi want you dead. Painfully. Holstein wants you pithed and stumped for experiments. And on top of all that, it seems Kanryuu had links to very interesting people now avidly trying to cover their own asses. So who knows where the buck will stop."

Aoshi flinched, but grimly took the packet of blood. Popped the cap, and raised it to his lips.

No!

It wasn't a thought; just a blur of reaction, to the crawling taint Battousai sensed within what should have been wholesome and healing. He moved, plastic flexing clammily against his hand even as he eluded Aoshi's instinctive flinch from claws so near his face.

"On the balance," Battousai said levelly, heart like ice within his breast as he dumped the offending packet into the stainless-steel sink, "it seems Holstein's claim came first for you."

"What?" Han'nya struggled to rise. "What did you try to do to my Okashira!"

Alex wet her lips. "Let me guess. Drugged?"

"Worse." Amber burned into inhuman brown. "There is a disease Kin are prey to, that humans are not, which yet lingers in human flesh and blood."

"Nerve Rot!" Misao went white.

"Even I can't detect it without good time in a lab." The vampire gave Battousai a clinical look. "How do you always know?"

"Like you think he's going to tell you?" Kaoru's fists were bunched, obviously wishing for the vanished chair leg. "You knew. God, how can you even call yourself human?"

"I don't." Brown glinted deadly red. "I'm a vampire, Ms. Kamiya. Just because I know whose side is going to win... doesn't mean I like humans."

"Why, you-" Sano's hand clenched, itching for his gun.

Goren cleared his throat. "We're leaving now." He gathered the room with his eyes. "All of us."

"Think Target Alpha won't hurt you because you're cops?" Fang gleamed in the vampire's smirk. "You'll never make it past the front door."

"Want to bet?" Sano snapped.

"No," Battousai said coolly, gathering Yahiko's and Kaoru's gaze with his own, and giving Megumi's white-faced silence one reassuring glance, before lifting a sardonic stare to his partner. "He's right, Sanosuke. The doors are far too well guarded."

Kami, only let me remember how it is done!

The swift blow of wolf-yellow eyes in Kyoto; the killing strike of his mortal enemies, the Shinsengumi. Sword drawn like a spray of silver, free hand along the blade to guide the thrust-

Gatotsu!

The wall exploded.

---------

I can't believe we're doing this.

It took everything Kaoru had left to follow Battousai's lead. To stand, when all she wanted to do was fall over and pass out; to dive into the night and run, hands empty and weaponless, knowing Target Alpha was armed and angry and starved for revenge. They'd been out of danger, they'd been safe-

Only Aoshi wasn't safe at all. And that desperate look in two pairs of green eyes...

Cut Aoshi, and Misao would bleed.

So she gathered her stubbornness and followed that blaze of scarlet, knowing they were in no shape to fight. Nerves wailing with the anticipation of bullets, shrieking that this was a bad idea, bad-

Misao is Battousai's friend. He's got to have a plan. Right?

Ancient Japanese snapped and snarled into the night, cutting through the angry shouts as their watchers got over the shock of a wall blowing out in front of them. Battousai lifted one clawed, empty hand to the sky, slashing out to scribble kanji even as he ran. She could almost see the hurried lines, like waving grass, limned in hints of blue fire...

Wind gusted, sudden and sharp, stinging her cheeks with the fine grit of the city. Bits of newsprint blew past her hair. Breathless static seemed to fill the air, tense and filled with wonder as that brief instant when she'd seen the hope of Chinatown appear as a concrete dragon, raining fire and death on their enemies. The gunshots...

Never came.

One turn. Another. The stitch in her side had grown to raking agony, blurring the night streets with angry tears.

Just keep going. Just keep going. Just. Keep-

Arms caught her. "Kaoru. Kaoru-dono. It's all right, it's all right, we can stop-"

She sobbed into his shoulder, fear and frustration and anger at the whole impossible night dripping into warm cotton. I want my normal life back. I want not to know about monsters. I want people to stop shooting at me, damn it!

"I know, Kaoru-dono. I know..."

"K-Kenshin?" she sniffled. "I - thought you were..."

"One can't sleep through Elementals, Kaoru-dono." Violet pulled back just enough to twinkle at her. "No matter how one might try."

"No - dragons," Eames panted, one hand plastered against the side of a bus stop shelter to keep her upright. "No - walking statues. What...?"

"Battousai... did not ask for a manifestation," Kenshin said slowly, as the others staggered up and caught their breath. "We... I think we asked for a favor, that we did." He shook his head, stunned. "And - I think that it was granted."

"Can't see, don't shoot." Sano gulped air. "Standard training. Too many Kin can make you see what's not there. Or not see what is. Agents don't shoot if they can't see." He glanced back over his shoulder. "They're going to be on us. Soon."

"No," Goren said thoughtfully, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket. "No, I don't think so."

"We can't call the cops!" Yahiko burst out. "They've got people in the station, you don't know-"

"Who said anything about going to the station?" The tall detective tilted his head at Kenshin.

Slowly, Kenshin smiled.

---------

"Welding torch," Samantha X muttered, her fingers ghosting over the side of Tyler's neck yet again, checking for any trace of another Kin's Drain. The crew-cut vampire's eyes were hard and dangerous, even if most of the angry red light had faded out of them. "Car crusher. I don't care how much magic's in that steel, this is the twenty-first century..."

"I'm all right," Tyler repeated, trying not to shiver at the tickle of bass-callused fingertips. And then trying not to rub at a headache as Shagman Doctor D switched tracks from relatively light heavy metal to a personal hardcore mix that had Club Afterdark's late-night crowd slamming all over the dance floor. For a werewolf, Shagman was a great guy... but lycanthropic hearing meant there were ultrahigh notes mixed in that seemed to scratch at the back of a merely human skull. "Look. I could have left. Well, up to the point where he grabbed me for first aid patrol," the writer admitted. "But up until then... I was just curious."

The vampire snorted, eyes softening. "Reporter never dies, huh?"

Tyler shrugged, feeling red burn in his cheeks. "Guess not. I know, not the safest thing I could have done, but-"

"If you weren't curious, you wouldn't be here." Samantha gave him a crooked smile. "Just think next time, 'kay? James still needs you in one piece." Her eyes narrowed again. "Maybe a diamond saw..."

Tyler choked back a laugh. "I'm sure you can work out how to dismember a sword later," he said wryly. "You saw how he stomped out of here the other night. What are the odds he's going to come anywhere near this place-"

Shagman's speakers screeched. Thudded silent. Tyler darted a quick glance toward the shocked werewolf, then jerked his head to follow the room's collective stare.

Samantha blew out a sharp breath. "You were saying?"

They look like they've been through a war, Tyler realized in that utter silence. Bandages, bloodstains, pure and utter exhaustion plastered across every semi-human face. The one inhuman mask wasn't even looking up, just leaning on a young woman with a long blue-black braid and a tall guy whose battered white trenchcoat shouted Ubo to the world. A real war.

"Not the usual way we kill a party," Detective Eames observed wryly.

"Don't worry about it; I'm sure there's a dead body around here somewhere." Sanosuke Sagara clapped a hand on Kenshin's shoulder, almost knocking the bloodied redhead off his feet. "Listen up, people! We've been sworn at, shot at, stabbed, kidnapped, rescued, blown up, and damn near electric sushi-fied by Virus. For the slower guys in the room, and you know who you are, we've had a really bad day!" He took a deep breath, angry eyes searching the room for challenges. "And now, we plan to get drunk. And then, we plan to go home. And if anybody gets the bright idea to try bending this plan out of shape-" Deliberately, Sano cracked his knuckles. "I'm just going to have to do a little bending myself. Got it?"

Kenshin sighed, hand cupping his face in exhausted exasperation. "I can't take you anywhere..."

"You can take him to the back." Golgotha's quiet words cut through the first rising mutter from the crowd, as the master vampire himself stalked into view. "Take it you have reason for bare steel in my club, Battousai?"

Tyler froze, seeing the blade stuck under the white obi. Oh, fu-

"My saya met with an... unavoidable accident," Kenshin said levelly.

The trenchcoat snorted.

"As Sano said, we only need a little," Kenshin hesitated, "peace."

"And a chisel," the trenchcoat observed coolly.

Say what? Tyler blinked.

Golgotha looked over the iron chaining the trenchcoat to the wiry Animate. Glanced over the battered and bruised detectives, Witch, and kendo practitioners, before raising one thick brow at Kenshin.

"Oro?"

"This," Golgotha said in that low, gravelly voice that reminded Tyler of a mountain on its first cup of coffee, "had better be one heck of a story." He nodded at the crowd. Kin parted in a reluctant wave, opening a path to the privacy of the back booths.

One heck of a story, oh yeah, Tyler thought, stomping a sudden swell of curiosity. How can I get some details out of Golgotha later-

A throat cleared in front of him. Tyler looked up into ancient, amused eyes. "You two mind getting trays from Phil?" the master vampire asked. "I don't want them walking through this crowd."

"They're Target Alpha," Samantha almost growled.

"Exactly."

The younger vampiress sighed. "Wasn't you, Golly, I wouldn't do this. Red beer?"

"Better bring out a whole pitcher. Shinomori looks bad."

"Shinomori?" Samantha almost yelped. "But he-"

"Isn't working for Kanryuu anymore, or he wouldn't be here," Golgotha stated. "Makes me curious." The ancient gaze turned back to Tyler. "Tell Phil you need some colas, juice for the kid and Kamiya, scotch on the rocks for the cops, and a full glitterwarm."

Whoa. Serious. The carved white jade of glitterwarms might be fairly new on the Kin scene, but Tyler had already seen how valuable the enchanted stones were to lifeforce-starved Kin. Samantha's friend Anne-Marie kept one in her bag just in case. Spell-flingers might be closer to humanity than any other Kin, but magic wasn't free. Every time you warped the world, the payback came right out of your own lifeforce. Witches were limited to their own strength, and whatever power their coven could raise. Sorcerers... faced a darker hunger.

Most Animates wouldn't go near a glitterwarm. But then, most Animates thought Herds were walking bags of meat and lifeforce, just waiting to be sucked dry.

So either this guy's one of the good guys, or Golgotha just doesn't want him trying to eat somebody in the club. Taking the laden tray from Phil with a thankful nod, Tyler braced himself for the walk back through a hostile crowd. Time to find out which.

"Why here, damn it?" Samantha snarled under her breath, taking the lead. "Damn sword is death and chaos on two feet. Why the hell did he have to come here?"

"Golgotha," Tyler said practically. "I think Battousai trusts him. Sort of. And Kenshin respects him."

She snorted. "Trusts him? The guy who told Golly - Golgotha, no less - never to touch his kid again?"

Tyler shook his head. "That was Kenshin." I think.

Samantha gave him the kind of look he'd gotten from a bus driver half a day ago, but kept her mouth shut as they got into listening range of the booths.

Plural, Tyler noted, now understanding why Phil had insisted on two pitchers of blood. Shinomori and the long-braided girl were propping up the masked Animate in one of the tiny booths in the back, not so much talking as staring at each other with interruptions of incoherent syllables. Sano had grabbed the largest booth in easy sight of Shinomori, sitting in casual guard on the outward edge while Megumi slumped into the corner cushions; a red-and-blue knot on the other side marked where Kaoru and the Himuras huddled together in boneless exhaustion. The cops had grabbed yet another of the tiny booths and were talking intently to Golgotha; or at least Goren was talking, eyes alight with avid interest. Eames was trying hard not to stare, eyes going from Wyghts to Asrai to partially furred-out werewolves with a world-weary expression a bare heartbeat from blank shock.

"Somebody needs backup," Samantha muttered. "You mind? Us girls got to stick together."

"Oh yeah; go save the big bad homicide cop from us poor innocent man-eating supernaturals," Tyler muttered back.

"Right on." Samantha grinned at him, all mischief and fangs.

Snickering, Tyler traded off drinks with the vampiress so she didn't shock the cops too much, then hefted his now-heavier tray and headed for Shinomori's booth. The braided girl broke off her latest stammer with a blush, just long enough to grab the glitterwarm off Tyler's tray and press it into metal claws. "Um, thanks - hi - Misao, is me, um-"

"Breathe," Tyler advised, trying not to look too hard at the way her hand crept back to Shinomori's, the way the Ubo's clutched hers like a lifeline. Oh hell. They're serious. Not my problem, not my problem... damn, they did get a chisel. Yow.

And unless he'd been suddenly struck blind, Shinomori and the Animate were now each sporting halves of what had been a Target Alpha enchanted manacle.

But Battousai works for Target Alpha... I am officially confused.

Leaving one pitcher with Shinomori, Tyler headed over to the source of the problem. "Somebody order red beer?"

"Red-?" Kaoru's eyes widened as Kenshin let her go long enough to pour an opaque mug of crimson. "...Oh."

"I shock you." Red bangs fell forward, obscuring the tell-tale eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No." The kendo teacher swallowed hard. "You need - what you need. It's just a little weird to see it in public."

"Club's not exactly public," Tyler pointed out. Nodded toward the door all the way across the dance floor. "Nobody who's not Crowley gets through that door and comes out alive."

"And you live with that." Blue eyes bored into him, shamelessly indignant.

"Some days better than others," Tyler admitted. "Golgotha's a friend. Samantha's my girlfriend, and she's kept me alive when some of the bad parts of town strolled my way. Not to mention, Samantha's friends kept me from catching a serious case of dead from some Stake jerks with more Uzis than brains." Setting down the tray, he let his shoulders fall. "These are my people now." Glancing at Sano, he raised an eyebrow. "So what happened?"

"God, what didn't?" The agent knuckled his eyebrows. "Why him, partner?"

"First, he was there," Kenshin noted tiredly. "Second - Tyler was a reporter, Sanosuke. And Katsu is a printer."

Sano gave the redhead a sharp look. "Not following you."

"Virus has some other goal besides feeding and spreading," the swordsman stated. "Whatever that goal may be, I cannot think it bodes anything but ill for us. All of us - Kin, Herd, Crowley, and Target Alpha alike. And yet, all we have been able to do is track Virus by rumors and trace evidence... which can be rather hard to come by when Kin have cleaned and flossed, or Uramura and his ilk have played with fire." Violet eyes turned on Tyler. "All the Kin community runs on rumors. Surely, there must be a better way."

The writer's jaw dropped. "You want me to start a newspaper?"

"Perhaps only a newsletter?" Kenshin gave him a half-smile. "Gamers create such things. Medieval re-enactors, as well. Surely, it could not be beyond the grasp of a creative writer to sketch out true tales, that yet would seem only fantasy to any unknowing Herd who should happen on such a broadsheet."

Ooo, ow. Direct strike to the ego, there. He did that on purpose, damn it. Yet even knowing that, Tyler couldn't help feeling a thrill at the challenge of the idea. Could kind of dress it up as Goth-hardcore fantasy, get some of the other Kin I know to write a few bits... heck, Samantha wrote a review for the Rite of Spring when it came out, she'd have just the kind of archaic touch that would make humans think it was just a game...

"Interesting idea."

Eeep! Tyler managed not to leap out of his sneakers at the gravelly words, heart pounding. Why did Golgotha have to be so quiet?

"Goren filled me in," the vampire elder said directly to Kenshin. "Man lands on his feet; he'll do for Crowley, though I think he might just be dropping in on a priest friend of mine later. Good for him. Eames I may have to work on a little. Samantha's got her calm for now, but-" A muscled shrug.

Violet blinked, and amber looked up. "Detective Eames is under my protection," Battousai said carefully, "in that she was entangled in Kanryuu's web with the rest of us, and so at risk from Target Alpha's... hasty reactions... if she remained. However, now that I have brought her to a place of sanctuary, it would be unjust of me to interfere in her life and mind any more than is necessary for the defense of those who were and will remain under my protection."

Golgotha smiled slowly. "Good call, youngster." Snorted at a sharp look from amber. "Century and half, sure. You're still a kid, far as I'm concerned. I'll talk to Goren. See what he thinks his partner can handle. Meanwhile... Shinomori."

Silent, Battousai took a lump of crushed silver out from between the layers of his gi.

Golgotha let him drop it into one large palm, lip curled up as if he were holding a dead roach. "Tell me this isn't what I think it is."

"An enslaving item." Megumi didn't lift her eyes from her soda.

Pure horror sleeted down Tyler's spine. Oh hell - I thought those were Kin urban legends! "You mean, all that time he was working for Kanryuu-"

"Trapped in his own mind," Golgotha stated. "There's a special hell for people who do things like that." Dark eyed regarded Battousai. "You send him there?"

Kaoru shuddered. "I think Virus ate him first."

For once, Golgotha's smile wasn't pleasant. "Good."

"I should have seen it," the Witch said numbly. "But when it was whole, I just - I just couldn't. All of it fit together, just a slickness in the magic about him. Now that it's broken-" she swallowed hard. "I recognize some of the pieces."

"Megumi?" Worry drew Kaoru's brows down. "We're okay. We're alive."

"Until Virus comes for me again." Megumi's voice was calm. Matter of fact. Hopeless. "It will. Soon. There's no place I can hide. Nowhere I can go."

"Not quite true," Golgotha noted.

Megumi laughed bitterly. "Somehow, I don't think Liberty Island would want to add me to their problems."

"Wasn't thinking of there." The vampire tossed silver in his hand, claw-marks catching the light. "Only one coven I know of in the States that ever pulled these things off. So. You're the lady with the link into the pool under Wonderful Things?"

Megumi blinked. "Dullahan's old magic supply shop?" She frowned. "I was told he died - oh, must be a decade or so ago, now..."

"He did," Sano spoke up, as the Himuras' jaws dropped and Karou gave Kenshin a wide-eyed stare. "Shop's still running, though. Only the current owners were kind of clueless about what the place really was. And on top of all that, they've got - well, a couple family problems to sort out. Chews up a lot of their time. Bet they could use an extra hand. If somebody asked nice."

"And the wards," Kenshin breathed. "The wards would keep you safe."

"You know about the wards?" Megumi gave him an odd look.

"Well he should," Yahiko said wryly. "He spent most of a year hiding from a crazy Inuit ex-girlfriend inside them."

"Please let her have moved out of New York," Kenshin muttered. "Anywhere outside of New York."

"Hell's good," Yahiko nodded.

"Yahiko!" Kaoru frowned.

"Hey! She tried to make my big brother into a life-sucking maniac, 'cause she thought he owed her for the werewolves his mom took down before they ate her. I kind of think I'm entitled to wish her someplace extra crispy."

"Your mother was-" Megumi shook her head. "You mean, you were Crowley before this rooster-head picked you up?"

"Hey! Lay off the hair!"

"No," Kenshin bit out. "I only seem to have horrible luck in attracting unnatural attention. Would I knew why," he muttered.

"That, I think I can explain." Shadows seemed to shift just out of Tyler's view; the writer jumped back, as the Animate's mask of a face blurred into sight. "Shinta Noguchi."

Kenshin's fingers dug into the table. "As I told the detectives, I don't go by that name-"

"Who said you did, Himura?"

Sano's hand didn't quite near his gun. "Want to explain that little remark?" the agent said flatly.

"There was no one to report back from London, no. But there were reports that led our clan to London. And those, I did know of." Red glinted in mask-slits as the Animate studied the swordsman. "Even in the confusion of Meiji, Battousai, you knew you could not win free of pursuit by strength alone. So your family fled under other names. Shinta Noguchi. Ame Noguchi. And Kenji Noguchi."

---------

Kenji Noguchi.

Hisofu Kenji...

:My son!: Battousai dove for the flicker of memory, cupping it in unseen hands to blow it to a flame. :What do you know of my son?:

So long ago...

A desperate, fanged snarl, as a soul of steel drove into his brain. :You. Will. Remember!:

Fire and pain and darkness-

Quiet. The soft warmth of a blanket. The comfort of an adult's heartbeat in his ears, as strong arms cradled him.

And the new, rich taste of crimson, as he sucked on a clawed fingertip.

"Failure to thrive." Great-grandfather's voice was a soft hiss of anger, swiftly damped as the small life in his arms stirred restlessly. "Thomas, why didn't you call me? The cub's nothing but skin and bones; a few more days, and-" He bit off the thought, stroking the small head. "You'll need sterile knives. He won't have teeth enough to break skin for months yet."

"Teeth!" Father's voice vibrated with rage, not damped at all. "For god's sake, babies do not drink blood!"

"In the womb, they exist on nothing else," Kenji said dryly. "It's only after the delivery that he lacked what he needed." His voice softened, gray-touched red hair falling into reach of small hands. "Well, little one. No wonder you drove your mother into eating rare meat, hmm? Shh, everything will be well now..."

And it was, it was so much better; the new taste was driving that horrible creeping cold of not-enough away-

"You can't expect me to tell my wife she needs to cut herself to feed our son!"

"If you don't want Eileen involved, keep your voice down." Kenji's voice was soft, but dangerous. "I told you who she was to you before you got the marriage license."

"Your mother's Irish great-granddaughter. Or so you say," Father grumbled. "So we're - what, third or fourth cousins? That doesn't explain-"

"My parents were different, Thomas." Kenji's tone never changed, though his free hand stroked the fear away. "You are different. You prove it, every time you draw the shadows around you to deceive mortal eyes. And Eileen is different. She feels truth, and lies, and seeks the one to destroy the other." A quiet laugh. "This little one was just lucky enough to get it from both sides."

"Lucky-!"

"He's beautiful." Kenji's breath caught. "Haven't you seen his eyes? I never thought I'd see Ame's eyes again..."

"Your eyes."

"Thomas-"

"I can't do this!" Footsteps trembled the room as Father stalked away; flung hands ruffled the air, as he whirled back. "You're telling me my child, my son... isn't..." Words failed him. He sucked in a breath. "What if... the doctor already thinks he's not... if we tried again..."

A low growl vibrated through the arms holding him. "You would dare... gods, I should let you be a fool! And when your blood and Eileen's mingled once more, carrying that heritage of my father's, I would watch you from the shadows and take the next cub before you could kill it!" The growl died into grief. "As I will take Shinta now."

"No!" Hands caught at his blanket. "No, please!"

"You try my patience, Grandson." Again, the chill voice. And the wonderful warm crimson slipped away from his tongue, as Great-grandfather dropped one hand near his waist.

"I just don't know what to do," Father admitted; voice strained, as if the words had to fight their way past his lips. "You say he needs blood. That he's... like you... god, what if he really is like you? I don't - I don't know how to raise a baby with claws, I just don't..."

"Well." Great-grandfather's tone softened, almost playful. "Mine didn't grow in until I was almost seven. So I would say you have some time to think about it." A rustle of cloth, and suddenly there were two bodies pressed against the blanket. "It's all right, Thomas; it's all right, he's your little one, and he loves you-"

Crying. Father was crying.

But the bloody finger had slipped back into his mouth, and sucking away that hunger was far more important. Red... warm... sleepy...

"After all, at least you know it can happen," Kenji's fading voice chuckled. "I don't think I'll ever forget the look on Mother's face when she caught me up that tree..."

---------

"Kenshin?" Sano's hand was shaking him. "Yo, earth to Kenshin!"

Ow.

:I'm... sorry...:

No you're not, Kenshin thought blearily. Something hard was pressing against his cheek. A table?

:No, I'm not,: the sword-spirit admitted. :It's only... I've wanted to know for so long.:

And now we have even more questions. Kenshin winced, prying himself off the tabletop. "I'm all right. Battousai only went looking for something. Which I'd prefer he not do again until we're home. And safe."

:I'll only sift,: the sword-spirit promised, chastened. :Now that I have the first shred of your memory, others may rise to join it... He was alive! Oh gods, he was alive - and he was good, and honorable, and defiant as Ame ever was...:

Kenshin swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to focus on the practicalities through that incandescent joy. "I'm all right," he repeated gently, to Kaoru's worried hand on his shoulder. "It's only - Han'nya is right."

"You mean - Great-grandpa Kenji-" Yahiko stammered.

"He was."

"Sitting down now," Yahiko said faintly.

"You're already sitting, brat," Sano snarked.

"Good for me." Yahiko drained half his juice in one gulp.

Kenshin sniffed, and stifled an aggravated growl. Meddling again, Golgotha? He tensed claws on the table, and deliberately relaxed. Let it go. We need him. For Misao's sake. "As much as I appreciate the information, Han'nya, we have a more pressing problem."

"As in, Target Alpha wants blood," Sano pointed out. "Preferably, your Okashira's."

The Animate tched. "You must have taken one too many blows tonight, Battousai."

Kenshin raised an eyebrow.

"Aoshi-san needs a distraction," the onmitsu smirked, mask crackling into a wicked smile. "And how better to distract DuBuccio and his ilk than to thieve away their right to their own personal Kin assassin?"

Kaoru choked. Put her drink down with nerveless fingers. "It's your sword."

Well, technically, I guess, Kenshin thought wryly. Took a second look, as both Golgotha and Sano took this news in with sober faces. "What?"

"Government has a policy of returning heirloom swords to their families," Golgotha said plainly. "Even if you can't prove it on paper, if you're Battousai's descendant - the agency's got no more right to hold it."

Kenshin felt Battousai stir. Seize that thought. Examine it, keen as the dewdrop lens on a leaf, from every possible angle.

:Yes.:

Drawing a deep breath, Kenshin nodded. "I need a phone."

---------

Leaning against the wall outside tBuku's bunker office, Uramura stroked the touch-pad of his laptop, examining digital shot after shot of the rubble of Kanryuu's mansion and the smaller wreck of Dr. Doctor's wall. Damn. Almost makes me wish I could get that pair on my team.

A wish evidently not shared by Natasha Falconi, as the Sorceress all but vibrated through the checkpoints, metal detectors, and various mystical wards that led into this concrete corridor. "Why are we being held back?" she snapped, British accent more evident than usual. "We know where that damnable killer is!"

Don't take it personal, Uramura reminded himself. Falconi and tBuku. Oil and water. Or maybe oil and a blowtorch. tBuku didn't like Kin. The fact that New York's Commander of Field Operations had to work with a Sorceress as ENO Liaison anyway, if he wanted to keep his human field operatives alive, put both their noses out of joint. "You want to raid Club AfterDark?" Uramura asked politely. "I'll be behind you. Very, very far behind you, with all the armor plating I can beg, borrow, or steal." The field team leader gave her a sardonic look. "Golgotha and DuBuccio have an agreement. You know that."

"Yes; and agreements are subject to change," the Sorceress said darkly.

"I heard you thought he was cute," Uramura observed offhand.

"Kenshin? Certainly," Natasha stated, miffed. "However, even looking like a winsome lost kitten doesn't excuse what he's allowed that sword to do. To aid and abet Shinomori's escape-!"

Yes; that burned at Uramura, too. The recordings at Holstein's lab were clear. The Ubo might not have taken any lives in that massacre himself, but he'd definitely been the guiding hand.

Yet Himura went back into that hellhole after him, Uramura thought reluctantly. Battousai's a lot of things, but he's practical. He wouldn't have tried to save an irredeemable killer.

Would he?

It could have been just for Misao's sake. God knew the reaction of vampire victims to their vampire being staked could range from the simply hysterical to truly life-threatening. And she was a victim, Uramura believed that down to the core of his soul. For all her odd habits and sometimes-grating bubbly enthusiasm, Misao Makimachi was one of the few truly good people he'd ever met. Heck, she'd even befriended that blood-soaked blade...

Which makes it all the more likely Battousai would take drastic action to help her,

Uramura admitted to himself. Even helping a cop-killer. It's not like the rest of us gave him any reason to care about the Agency.

He looked down, trying to quell the gnawing sense of shame that thought raised. It wasn't as if he'd done anything wrong. He was a good field agent. One of the best. He'd kept his people alive in some of the hairiest situations ever seen by Herd or Kin on the face of the planet.

But Nez is dead.

Dead, and cremated after, just to be sure Virus had no chance to reanimate his corpse. Theoretically, Virus needed hours to Infect. Practically speaking, nobody who'd ever come up against the blasted things felt inclined to take chances.

Sagara and Battousai went down to the pool anchor and lived. We went down there to clean it up - and Nez died.

Irrational. Virus had its own, obscure goals; who could say why it only came in ones and twos at one time, and hordes at another?

Even so, part of him couldn't help but hate them.

Still. All the grief and rage and hunger for revenge couldn't wipe out the fact that he knew that crazy pair. And neither Sagara nor Battousai had ever, ever betrayed Target Alpha.

And there was something just a little furtive about how that damn vampire was acting... why would Dr. Doctor ever dump perfectly good blood down the sink?

Simple. He wouldn't.

So. Who do I believe? My human superiors? Or a Kin-loving agent and his sword-spirit partner, who've always been reliable backup no matter how much I despised them?

God, what a question.

All things considered, Uramura was just as glad they'd been called off before they'd reached Club AfterDark. He was tired. All his people were tired.

And like it says in the manual, Uramura thought darkly, go up against Kin unprepared, you get one of two results. A severe reprimand in your file - or the Agency claiming your body from the local morgue.

The steel door slid open.

Eyes glittering, Natasha marched in. Uramura followed in her wake, drawing on years in the field to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. This feels bad. Very, very bad...

tBuku was smiling.

Uramura's stomach dropped somewhere around his ankles. Oh yes. This is bad.

"Falconi. Uramura." Seated behind a desk that was oak over reinforced steel, the tall African-American waved a genteel hand at empty chairs. "I don't think this will take long, but I know you've been up all night..."

Trying not to wince, Uramura dropped into the right-hand chair. God, shoot me now and get it over with. Not that Dr. James nGao tBuku ever raised his voice. God, no. A Berkeley philosopher, descend to petty histrionics? Never.

Verbal flaying, though - he'd rather face tBuku's aim. At least that would be a quick death.

"The situation is in flux even as we speak, so I'll get to the point." tBuku's smile sharpened slightly. "Just how did Battousai get DuBuccio's home phone number?"

Natasha blinked. "He has - dear gods, even I don't have that one!"

"Your husband's been known to call our Deputy Director direct," tBuku noted.

"Harvey does have it, yes," Natasha nodded stiffly. "I don't. It's policy."

"ENOs don't need to know where our fearless leader sleeps. Exactly." tBuku turned his gaze on Uramura. "A policy this particular enchanted item seems to have ignored."

Makimachi, was Uramura's first thought. He rarely visited the R&D labs, field teams steered clear for security purposes, but he'd heard Sagara's comments on the little computer wizard. If anyone in Battousai's crowd had pried into records to find DuBuccio, she was the most likely culprit. But she's already in it up to her neck as it is. And I don't know she's to blame. "He's an assassin," Uramura said bluntly. "He knows where all of us sleep."

"Really." tBuku raised a skeptical brow. "You seem rather sanguine about that."

"He has an agreement with us." Uramura didn't let his tone change. "Backed up by binding spells."

"Spells that aren't really working anymore," tBuku observed, almost offhandedly. "Not that you would have known that, Uramura, it was classified - but the magical contracts placed on that blade should have prevented it from taking any host without Target Alpha intervention. Which means I do owe you an apology, Ms. Falconi. I admit, I thought your people's spellwork was flawed. After all, so long as that sword was legally Target Alpha property, it shouldn't have mattered if a bug picked it up. Much less a civilian. He should have stayed bound."

"So long as it was...?" Natasha looked a bit wild about the eyes.

tBuku dusted off his hands. "Oh, I suppose you haven't gotten the word yet." His voice turned hard. "According to our Deputy Director, Battousai is the Himura family sword."

Silence. Uramura swore he could hear a spider creeping out of a corner to start a web, and thinking better of it.

"So after decades of good work for us, a killing sword finds its way into the hands of one of the two people on the face of this planet who could cut it loose," tBuku observed. "Does anyone but me think this is not a coincidence?"

But... I saw Himura's face, after he helped us rescue Debrowski, Uramura thought, troubled. He was just as surprised as the rest of us. That wasn't a plan. That was a man who had to do the right thing, even if it scared him to death.

"And now instead of a useful bound killer who could change IDs as easily as we change socks, we have an ENO agent with a distinctly legitimate identity who's already made some allies among the police," tBuku said dryly. "The IRS paperwork for paying the bastard is probably only the first layer of his revenge."

Uramura choked back a snicker. Himura got a salary out of the Agency? I have got to talk to him! Not that the Agency was stingy, exactly; cut costs on silver bullets, you'd shortly be paying out for funerals and training new agents. But arguing new equipment out of Accounting was always... interesting.

Which means he's not just a hired ENO, Uramura realized. DuBuccio really does want him as an agent. Most ENOs Target Alpha picked up for a mission or two worked strictly quid pro quo; help out on an investigation or assault, get your record whitewashed of feeding-related crimes. ENO agents - not common. Not common at all.

Well, think about it, Uramura told himself. Sagara's been working with Battousai for over two years now. Why break up a good team?

Shinomori, burning anger reminded him.

Yes. Well. At the moment, Shinomori and Makimachi weren't separate problems. And... damn it, the dead were dead. Makimachi was alive.

He was a Target Alpha agent. He'd taken an oath to protect the citizens of his country from supernatural predators. Even bubbly, irritating, computer-hacker vampire-victim citizens.

Talk to Himura, Uramura started a mental list. Talk to Sagara. Feckless as he may be, Sagara thinks of Makimachi as a little sister. He's got to be working on how to break her loose already.

Once Makimachi's safe... stake, razors, and garlic oil. And I'll take a very long time.

"So as I understand it, Agent Himura is my problem," Natasha observed dryly.

"For the moment," tBuku said, just as dry. "And yours, Uramura, given how often your team ends up coordinating with Sagara. Treat them like any other Triborough team. But watch him. Battousai evidently has a plan, and I want to know what it is before it happens." He stood, jerking his head toward the door. "And find out where the hell he's stashed Shinomori!"

---------

Knocking, knocking... will beat the head in of whoever's knocking, I swear, Kaoru thought fuzzily, turning over in bed.

Thunk.

She blinked away stars, working her jaw to be sure it was still in one piece after running headlong into someone's shoulder. Someone's in my bed. I have another person in my bed! Aaah, bar, bad idea, date rape-!

Something long and warm and corded fell into Kaoru's face; she bit back a shriek, grabbing it to strangle-

Misao's braid.

Kaoru pried herself semi-upright, peering through curtained sunlight to study the wan girl sprawling over more than her half of the mattress. Misao's... in my bed.

Right; she couldn't go home, Target Alpha's still breathing fire. And Megumi's got my couch. And Sano's got Kenshin's couch - not that I'd dump Misao in the same apartment with that idiot, she's having a bad enough week. So I volunteered. Yay me.

Air mattress. I need an air mattress. Big time.

And someone was still knocking.

A sigh, more felt than heard. No sound of footsteps, but after a moment she heard a door open, and a familiar tread walk in rooms away.

"There seems to be a vampire buried in the courtyard garden," Dr. Gensai's voice carried to her. "Now, I know you wouldn't bring anyone home who'd threaten my granddaughters, young man... still, I believe a few explanations are in order?"

"Oro..."

Startled, Kaoru leaned a little closer to the conversation-

Thump.

Ow...

Well. At least she was up. Sort of.

Glaring at an oblivious Misao snuggling into her pillow, Kaoru huffed out a sigh, picked herself off the floor, and headed for the awkward mumble of Kenshin stumbling through exactly what had happened last night.

"Virus?!?"

Yep, that's what I thought, Kaoru thought wryly, heading through the hole in her wall. Kenshin, you're a good guy. Too good a guy. I bet you never got in the kind of trouble you had to explain to your parents, did you? "It's not as bad as he's making it sound, Dr. Gensai-"

Gensai choked. "Little Kaoru?"

And... I'm in a t-shirt and my underwear. In Kenshin's apartment. Red flushed her cheeks; Kaoru froze in place just outside Misao's hole, hoping the floor would swallow her. "This isn't what it looks like!"

Gensai blinked. "Really."

When in doubt, attack! She snapped her gaze to her redheaded neighbor and involuntary apartment sharer. "Don't tell me you told him about the rest of last night and left out what Misao did to my wall?"

Silence.

"Kenshin?"

The redhead's jaw worked, but no sound came out. A fiery blush burned across his face. He jerked his eyes away, red bangs falling forward, hands clenching slightly by his sides as he focused on Gensai. "Yes... well... it was a wiring requirement..."

"Oh?" Salacious amusement salted the Sorcerer's tone. "Making connections, are we?"

"Miss Kaoru's not like that!"

Strategic retreat time, Kaoru decided, seeing Sano grumble something in his sleep. Bad enough her family doctor saw her in her skivvies; if the rooster-head did, she'd never live it down.

Bathroom, Kaoru told herself firmly, darting inside it. Teeth. Face.

After all, if she focused on toothpaste and soap and facecloths, maybe she could forget that spark of amber in violet. The mix of wonder and hunger and desire that had made her heart lurch, like stepping into the dojo against one of Maekawa's colleagues for the first time...

Breathe, Kaoru reminded herself. This is Kenshin. He's not going to do... well, he's not. And if he were, all I'd have to do to distract him would be pick up a hairbrush.

Of course, then I'd have to figure out what to do when I stopped brushing...

Clothes. Necessities tended to. All of which should have burned up a good fifteen minutes by her estimation. Plenty of time for even Kenshin to untangle his tongue and get Gensai out of there.

Well, almost, Kaoru thought wryly, peeking through the hole to see the pair of them at her neighbor's front door, Kenshin still faintly pink, and Gensai chuckling under his breath.

But Kenshin took a deep breath and let it out, raising his gaze to the doctor's. "Gensai-isha... have you ever heard of failure to thrive?"

The laughter was wiped off the doctor's face. Sober dark eyes regarded the swordsman. "Where's the child? Who's handling the case?"

Kenshin almost stepped back. "It... was merely overheard, many years ago..."

"Likely too late, then." Gensai shook his head. "It's a catch-all, I'm afraid," the doctor said soberly. "The guardians are doing everything right, or say they are, but the youngster isn't growing as he should. Sometimes it means abuse. Or merely neglect; a lack of love can simply be fatal to some children. Others, it's a marker of something physically wrong; an undiagnosed nutritional deficiency, or worse."

"Like a Kin's child, needing blood," Kenshin said softly.

Gray brows went up. "It's rare, but I have heard of that in a vampire's living offspring," Gensai observed. "Usually the children grow out of the vampiric traits. Mostly. May I ask where...?"

Kenshin swallowed. "Perhaps later," he said stiffly. "I can't- I-"

Kaoru froze. No. Oh no. He can't mean-

Gensai blinked. "You overhead it years ago..." He let out a slow breath. "Oh dear gods, that must be a hard thing to learn about your parents. Does Yahiko-?"

"No!" Claws clenched. "It's - not what you think. I know who my parents were. I just - they weren't-"

The doctor let out a sigh, and reached out to lay a hand on a stiff shoulder. "When you feel up to it, tell me," he said gently. "I know it's hard. But if you're not speaking of a vampire in the family tree, and whatever it is you are referring to came through your father's line..."

"Yahiko's affected. Yes." Kenshin's voice was tight. Desperate. "I know how to treat the blood I have so it's safe for him. It's just a variant on Healing..." Violet eyes lifted, tear-bright and distant. "It's what Battousai used to do for Kenji."

Stunned, Kaoru swallowed hard. Braced herself, and headed for Gensai as deliberately as she would an over-arrogant journeyman student. "Okay. That's enough." Ignoring the doctor's protests, she took a firm and deliberate hold to steer Gensai out the door. "He'll talk to you later. I promise. But not before coffee!"

Slam.

"Gnrgh... keep it down, f'goodness sake..." Sano's mumble drifted to her ears.

Great, Kaoru thought dryly, patting Kenshin's arm with a comforting smile. So much for getting the idiot to talk. If he won't tell Gensai, no way is he going to 'fess up with Sano listening.

:Ah, but Kamiya-sensei...: a cool breeze seemed to tease her thoughts:we don't need to talk.:

Eeep!

A tickling laugh. :You didn't notice I was here? Ah, Kaoru, my rose of kenjutsu-:

Don't you even start! Kaoru thought furiously toward the steel sheathed at Kenshin's side. You didn't catch me leering at you before Golgotha got one of his people to bring you a new saya! Not that I would, she sniffed. Naked steel. Not pretty.

:No,: came the soft, regretful reply. :I suppose not.:

And now Kenshin was looking at her like a rain-lost kitten. Darn it. "Coffee," Kaoru muttered under her breath, and headed for her kitchen.

Hot water. Steaming mugs. And two - well, sort-of three - people awkwardly leaning against her kitchen counter. Kaoru swallowed, and steeled her nerve. "So. Yahiko?"

"My influence. Or... possibly what we both inherited from our father, breaking loose at last. I don't know." Kenshin wouldn't lift his eyes from his mug. "He's not Kin. But he's not - ordinary. Not anymore." His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "And I guess I never was."

Kaoru caught her lip between her teeth. "You don't have to talk about it."

"I..." Violet lifted to blue, dark and wary. "Can I... show you?"

Kaoru frowned, setting her half-empty mug down on the counter. "Show me?"

A clawed hand caught hers.

"Failure to thrive. Thomas, why didn't you call me?"

Fragment after fragment; a mosaic of misty memories. Anger. Reconciliation. Warm arms on both sides, but always the odd, chilling sense of withdrawal from Father.

Mother loved me.

A warm-eyed, wicked smile, as a redheaded woman in a aquamarine one-piece fished a sputtering youngster out of a New York pool. A smile that turned hard-edged and dangerous, as she unleashed a short, sharp lecture on teenage idiots who had cannonballed in almost on top of a tiny four-year-old.

Kenji loved me.

Night and the taste of blood; leaning back in strong arms as a clawed finger pointed out the stars, naming Aquila, Ursa Major, Orion. A chin moving over his head with a soft purr, eyes like his own taking on a glint of gold at an odd howl in the night breeze. "Wait here, Shinta-chan. Someone needs a lesson in manners."

And he was off, a shadow in the starlight. But he'd be back. He always came back.

Father...

Always caution in those large, callused hands. Always a wary look in dark eyes when Father thought he wasn't looking. Always the evasion, when a curious little boy asked about other families with brothers and sisters and why couldn't he have one too...

And the heartbreaking no! when he tried to pick up a shinai.

And... the memories were fraying now, just when Kaoru would have expected them to get clearer. There was only a last shudder of fear, and his parents' controlled panic, and the echo of a familiar, chilling wail...

Kenshin's hand had fallen away from hers. He was huddled against the counter, arms wrapped around himself as if against January chill. "Battousai... thinks that's when my parents went on the run. That... when the IRA came after them, the bastards brought a Banshee." He swallowed hard. "That wail - it goes right up into the ultrasonic."

Kaoru gulped, remembering what Yahiko had told her about the Virus assault in Zip Electronics. "And that hurts you..."

"Kenji would have walked right into it."

Kaoru straightened her spine, denying that air of defeat. "But you didn't see the body!" She frowned. "Seems like you didn't see much of anything."

"I don't know what I might have seen." Kenshin's tone was sober. Tense. "My parents... the first thing I remember them telling me in Ireland was that I'd been ill. Very. Battousai thinks that's true. That's why they could convince me I'd never been Shinta. I couldn't remember. Can't remember, not most of it. There was - damage."

"Damage?" A chill tingled down her spine.

Kenshin's smile had a rare, bitter edge. "Track down a family with a child? Maybe you can, maybe you can't. Track down a pair with a child who drinks blood - easier. Much easier."

Kaoru connected the dots, and leaned on the counter, feeling a little sick herself. "He never told your mother."

"He never even let me have sushi, after we got there." Claws curled into fists. "Funny. I was always sick, off and on, after that. But he was relieved."

Kaoru tried not to shudder at the loathing in her friend's voice. "Kenshin-"

"He said he loved my mother, but he never told her why he didn't want another child," Kenshin said tightly. "He... didn't want another like me."

Kaoru shook her head, trying to deny that pain. "You don't know that."

"He had Yahiko." Pain bled into aching sorrow. "I don't know what went wrong with Sadako, but I know they meant to have more children after him. She just - couldn't."

"Oh, Kenshin." Reaching out, Kaoru hugged him. And kept holding on, long, aching minutes, as he whispered broken words into her shoulder.

Finally his shoulders fell, and he stepped back, sniffling a little before he found a tissue. "I'm - sorry I got you shot at, that I am."

"Hey, I'm a New Yorker. I can take it." And she could, Kaoru realized, feeling an odd, pure relief finally wash away the numb shock of everything she'd endured at Kanryuu's hands. Because as bad as last night had been, drenched in fear and death and horror you couldn't find in the worst splatterpunk movie...

When I needed you, you came for me.

"You're my friend," Kaoru said firmly, pinning the redhead with her gaze. "And Yahiko's my student, and I'm not walking away from either of you. Or Misao - though I'm definitely keeping her away from espresso. Sano's not too bad either, the idiot. Even Megumi... well, if anybody's earned another chance, she has." She crossed her arms, and gave him an arch look. "I know what you keep in the fridge. I know you're not hurting anybody to get it. I'm not leaving."

I know what you are. And... I think I love you.

His smile was shy and sudden as sunrise.

---------

"So you're saying," Jay Berger said expressionlessly, "we have no idea what Battousai really is."

Slurping the mud that passed for office coffee, Petrio DuBuccio looked Target Alpha's NYC Intelligence Coordinator up and down. "Our homegrown Data." Nope, still not seeing it.

Though in a sense he could see where younger agents might have picked up the idea. Jay was cool, calm and collected at all times, seemed able to recall the most obscure files with the blink of an eye, and had absolutely no sense of humor. And Target Alpha had finally tracked the Borg inspiration to a Hollywood writer who got lost in the wrong part of town.

Made even wronger by some nitwit wizling who summoned a Krrsd... there's got to be some kind of connection with the Virus. The damn things are just too much alike.

Still. No matter what kind of rumors were out there, he'd seen Jay bleed.

Not letting any of those thoughts show on his face, DuBuccio quirked an eyebrow at his Magical Research Consultant. "Harvey?"

"He failed the leaf test," Harvey Falconi shrugged.

DuBuccio enjoyed the rare pleasure of seeing Jay taken completely and totally off guard. "It what?" Berger said blankly.

"It's the classic test of a Muramasa blade," Harvey explained, leaning on the doorframe. "Put the blade in running water. Drop in a leaf. Every time, that leaf will be cut exactly in half." He glanced at DuBuccio. "Took some wooden tongs and tested it with a few of those Kurogasa thorns before Texas incinerated them. Same result. Doesn't matter what you make them into. Doesn't matter how dull they are. Muramasa blades don't tear off bits. They don't just nick whatever they're up against. They hate life. All they can do is kill." Deceptively mild eyes went back to Jay. "Only when Battousai tried to demonstrate that little fact - in front of a dozen of Holstein's lab rats, no less - his leaf wasn't even scratched."

"Classic test," Jay said flatly.

"Every tale, every legend - every everything," Harvey stated, just as level. "Battousai is not a Muramasa sword-spirit. Period."

Jay frowned. "Then what the hell is it?"

"Good question." DuBuccio tapped an aging manila folder on his already-overflowing desk. "I went back through our records." Decades worth of them, ever since the fledgling Target Alpha agency had gotten the blade in trade from the nervous Brits that would later become MI-5 Section O. "There's nothing in here that contradicts Battousai's original story: that he's a Muramasa blade who got sick of assassinating people and bargained with us just to have access to living bodies."

"Except that Muramasa blades don't get sick of killing." Harvey couldn't hide a shudder. "Even with wood holding those things back - I swear, Petrio, those thorns were pure hate."

Jay lifted a thoughtful brow. "I assume this has to do with the deep background you asked for on the Noguchis?"

"In a minute," DuBuccio nodded. "So. Harvey. Forget the Muramasa aspect. I know you got Uramura's initial report-"

"With a few add-ins from my wife, oh yeah." The Crowley looked grimly interested. "She's not taking Nez' death well, Petrio. Not at all."

"I'm going to be assigning Virus-tracking to Makimachi as a long-term project," DuBuccio stated. "We need to source these monsters and flatten them. Even if we have to beg D.C. for the Nowhere Men to get enough firepower. Enough is enough."

"Brilliant." Mild enthusiasm touched Jay's voice. "No one in the lab can trust her, not as long as Shinomori exists, but we know the Kin community hates Virus. Especially Battousai."

"And there may be good reason for that." Harvey's smile had just a trace of smug self-satisfaction.

DuBuccio sat up straight. "You found something."

"Like you said; leave out the Muramasa aspect." Harvey ticked off points on his fingers. "Permanent claws. Blood drinking - not as strong as a vampire, but there. Incredible speed. Chosen human companions seem to be tougher than normal Herds. Magic resistant. That Healing Edge which seems to have shown up out of nowhere; Uramura swears that Animate was half a breath from collapsing into dust, period. And Elementals snuggle up to him like happy cats."

"You found something."

"More like a rumor of something," Harvey cautioned. "Next time you talk to Golgotha, you might want to ask him; a lot of the shreds trace back to Greece and Asia Minor, though the most recent bits show up in stories from Wales and, believe it or not, Japan-"

"Harvey."

"Ask him about Dragons, boss."

"...Extinct," DuBuccio finally managed. Flap flap? Breathe fire? Say what?

Harvey waggled a hand. "Not exactly. Not quite. If the legends are right." He waved a finger. "What I should have said was, ask him about Dragons' teeth."

DuBuccio raised an eyebrow. "Plant, sprout into warriors, throw rocks at so they kill each other?" he said dryly. Yep, Greek Mythology was good for more than Medusae. Who'd have thought?

"Not those Dragons' teeth, and not planted in ground," Harvey said firmly. "Planted in people."

"...Go on."

"A lot of this is speculation, but... you know how control teams sometimes figure out they've got a lot more in common with the Kin they're tracking than the regular Joe on the street."

Painfully, DuBuccio did. He'd grown up in Little Italy himself; Kin were just part of the background, like the tongs in Chinatown and the Mafia on the docks. How could you hate all Kin as monsters when you'd seen humans do a lot worse?

"Take that a couple thousand years back, to Dragons and dragon-slayers," Harvey went on. "Add in that there seem to have been lots of different types of Dragons, some of whom may have had more in common with nature spirits like Inuits than the kind of scaly monsters we see in Hollywood computer graphics. Mix with a few Dragon Cassandras who seem to have predicted the human race was going to win, big time. And there just wouldn't be any room left for creatures that couldn't blend in."

"Short version," DuBuccio stated.

"Some dragon-slayers got adopted," Harvey obliged.

Jay stirred. "Voluntarily?"

"Bits I've got, could be either way," the Crowley shrugged. "End result? Legend says there's a few, a very few, Kin out there who still call themselves Dragons. And those rare times they pick up a hatchling, teeth are involved." He shot a glance toward Jay. "Did you know in Japanese, a common nickname for sword is fang?"

Nature spirits. "Get a Virus into a natural environment, it loses a lot of Edges," DuBuccio breathed. "Telepathy. Armor-"

"Hot knife, butter." Harvey's mouth curved into a sardonic smile. "Battousai hates them. More than that, we've got it on record he can feel them, when nobody else can. 'Holes in the weave of the world', he says." A peppered brow lifted. "Sounds like a nature spirit freaking out over the unnatural to me."

Nature spirits. DuBuccio wove his fingers together, thinking hard. But Sagara says when Tomoe Yukishiro, an Inuit, tried to Infect Himura, he went flat-out berserk... "Harvey. Ubo bite on top of a Vampire's-"

"Very bad idea," Harvey said bluntly. "The Infections are close enough that the body doesn't know which way to turn. A lot of times the poor bastard just winds up dead."

Which Himura definitely wasn't. Later, DuBuccio told himself. Let Texas have some time with the data he got from Kamiya. If there's something there to find, he'll find it. "The Noguchis?"

Jay cleared his throat. "Much as I hate to endorse the use of Holstein's terminology for those who seem to be nexuses of paranormal influence-"

Harvey couldn't choke back a laugh. "They were weirdness magnets?"

"Historically and hereditarily," Jay stated flatly. "Starting with Kenji Noguchi. Who got in through Ellis Island on an Irish passport."

"With a name like Kenji Noguchi?" DuBuccio raised a skeptical eyebrow.

The tiniest of smirks seemed to flicker across Jay's face. "Red hair, blue eyes, and freckles."

Battousai's hosts all have red hair... DuBuccio waved a hand, go on.

Jay held up one of the newfangled tiny disk drives that always seemed to make coffee taste even worse. "The details." Setting it down on one of his boss' more stable paper stacks, he gave a minuscule shrug. "In brief, the Kin community seems to have treated the Noguchi family with all the respect due concertina wire. Kenji appears to have been a very moral, very lethal Kin who did not take 'oops' for an answer."

"Oh?" DuBuccio asked neutrally.

Jay nodded toward the disk. "There's at least one report of an attempted Red Moonrise takeover of an NYC preschool. Target Alpha interrogations of a surviving were-bear cell member says the last thing he remembers is trying to break "this spooky little violet-eyed Herd larvae who fuckin' wouldn't cry". And then everything went black." A twitch of a smile. "Our report says we found him beheaded."

Harvey was a little white around the eyes. "And the rest of his cell?"

"Ashes."

"I take it one of those preschoolers was Shinta Noguchi?" DuBuccio waited for Jay's slight nod, and frowned. "You say, appears to have been."

"The reports lack depth," Jay said clinically. Before I took over the office, hung implicit in the air. "But Kenji appears to have vanished from the Kin scene on or about the date the Noguchis themselves went into hiding." He lifted an impressed brow. "The casualty count was enough to severely dent local IRA fundraising for most of a year."

"Huh." Looking aside, DuBuccio mulled that thought, considering it in light of what he had done, what he had yet to do.

"Petrio." Jay looked serious. "While on the record I have no opinion on your choice of ENO agents beyond their likely security risk, unofficially I have to express doubt that Battousai will exert any level of control on the surviving Oniwabanshuu. Their recorded actions to this point have been neutral to distinctly anti-human in nature. And even if he were paying them, he could never match the level of funds Kanryuu was able to provide."

"He's not paying them in cash." DuBuccio put his thoughts together with care; Jay tried hard, but the man hadn't been raised Crowley. He didn't feel the net of honor and obligation that tied the more traditional Kin together; that affected even the youngest upstarts, who knew that blatant violations of Kin custom would earn a smack-down from the nearest peeved Elder. "Shinomori is Makimachi's relative. Battousai is her friend. They're going to have to work out who's got what claim under what conditions, or any Kin who hates either of them will see her as dinner with perks. And Battousai won't stand for that. He will keep track of Shinomori, he will know where to find the guy - more or less - and he will see that the bastard adheres to acceptable behavior. Or else."

"I don't know where to find the guy," Jay said flatly.

"'Course not," Harvey stuck in. "He's a ninja. They're like quantum particles. You either know where they've been, or where they're going. Not both." At Jay's glare, he shrugged. "Logic chain, Jay. Misao's got a will stubborn as a brick wall. And Shinomori put enough effort into Mesmerizing her to get her to break lab security. He's not going to walk away from an asset like that."

"And if Makimachi's out of the equation?" Jay said clinically.

He would think of that. "Battousai got them out of that mess before Virus could kill them," DuBuccio pointed out. "Or before we could. They owe him. They're not going far until they find a way to even up."

"I don't like it."

"I never said I liked it," DuBuccio said honestly. "But Kanryuu is toast. Spider's Web is off the streets. And we kicked serious Virus ass. All in all, I'd call that a good night."

With an acknowledging nod, Jay left.

Harvey made sure the door was shut behind him, then made a quick, furtive movement with his hand. "Spider's Web is off the streets, hmm?"

Despite the silence charm he knew the Crowley had just stuck on the door, DuBuccio winced. Damn. If Harvey figured it out-

"You didn't officially tell Jay that Takani was involved, so he doesn't have to do anything about it," Harvey noted. "Officially."

"Takani?" DuBuccio shrugged. "Involved?"

"Drugs magically treated not to show up on tests?" Harvey shot back, just as level. "The Oniwabanshuu themselves sent to get her back?"

"And don't forget Virus," DuBuccio stated flatly. "We may have a Virus-lure now. Under the watchful eye of one of the few creatures in the Apple those metal monsters have never been able to take down. I'm not giving that up. Not if I don't have to."

"Spider's Web," Harvey said flatly.

"Will never be made again."

Harvey arched a peppered brow. "Battousai said that, did he?"

"Has he ever lied to us?" DuBuccio waved off what he knew was coming. "Outside the leaf thing. Nobody would pull that in front of a whole lab if he thought it wouldn't work."

"Point," Harvey admitted. "What else?" He gave DuBuccio a wry look as the deputy director hesitated. "Come on, Petrio. Logic is good, logic is dandy - but you'd need a lot more than logic to put a new ENO on the payroll. Especially one who's currently shielding a drug-dealing Witch; one of our own who turned traitor, willing or not; two Kin directly involved in the deaths of Target Alpha agents..." Running out of fingers, the Crowley looked up. "What else have I missed?"

"We owe him," DuBuccio said quietly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Damn it, we do!" DuBuccio exploded. "Weirdness magnet or not, the guy was making a fair living until he picked up Battousai to keep from being a wolf snack. Since then, he's lost his apartment, his old life, and damn near his little brother. And his girlfriend, if what I hear about Kamiya is right. He's holding his shop together on sweat and bubble gum; he won't leave Sagara without backup, and Kin just don't keep off-business hours. Add that to the expenses of us trashing the place, and then Virus and the cops-" he flung out empty hands, at a loss for words. "He's willing to come in on our side. Be Sagara's partner on a permanent basis. Least we can do is meet him halfway."

"Not to mention, it's the only way the Agency can keep any control over that sword, now that it's with its hereditary owner," Harvey mused. "But if he's going to be an agent, officially... what happens to Wonderful Things?"

DuBuccio grinned.

---------

Megumi shook the intricate hairpin in her hand, noting how the lengths of white and purple paper triangles mimicked a spray of wisteria blooms. After three days cooped up and healing in Kaoru's apartment, even this taste of New York's glitz and glamour was like water in the desert. "We're supplying props for The Mikado?"

"Every year," Kenshin said happily. Red, gold, and green glimmered in stray sunlight from the front windows as he laid another hairpin down, packing it into a box with swift, practiced movements. "We generally end up supplying Montgomery for Madame Butterfly, too, but he always thinks he can get a better price and better quality somewhere else. So just take it in stride when he comes in here, pokes through everything, sniffs, and leaves. He'll be back."

Thump. Scrape. Screeek!

The redhead winced, rubbing his ears. Megumi took the noises of Yahiko and the Rooster-head getting the new back door up in stride, luxuriating in the almost-forgotten feeling of safety.

Wards, she thought with a silent sigh of relief, tasting that tingle of magic laced through the shop, thick as chocolate mousse. Nothing's getting in here short of blowing the whole place to hell.

Which she wouldn't put past Virus. But at least she'd have fair warning first.

Quiet tapping drew Megumi's eyes back to a happily humming lab tech tucked in a corner, braid flicked back over her shoulder as she hit enter. One hand snatched up the folded pamphlet tucked into her army-olive backpack, and Misao leaned back to read it, letting her program run. And giggled.

Megumi craned her head to read the title; nice, subtly Gothic lettering, set against a background of starry sky. "Rendezvous After Dark: A LARP Newsletter." She gave Kenshin a wry look. "Darrow works fast."

"Seems Katsu's been working on the idea off and on for a while," the redhead smiled. "All he needed was someone to bounce ideas off of. Whatever that means." He raised his voice slightly. "Anything good?"

"Inquisition strike team leader Uramura," Misao snickered.

Kenshin blinked.

Megumi picked her jaw up, and tried to wipe the stunned look off her face. "He didn't!"

"Oh yeah." Nursing a skinned knuckle, Sano swaggered in from the back, waving a screwdriver to punctuate his point. "Katsu called me with a little preview before they printed; I heard Tyler still arguing a few fine points in the background. They're going to make it look like a White Wolf LARP with serious in-house rule mods-"

Megumi rolled her eyes. "English?"

"Classic supernatural role-playing game," Yahiko stuck in, dropping the shop toolbox with a rattle. Jumping a little, he snatched the screwdriver before Sano could poke it through a lampshade. "They've got werewolves, vampires, ghosts, sorcerers, weird fairies-"

"No Wyghts, though," Sano noted.

"Mummies," Yahiko pointed out. "And heck, Wyghts look just like mummies without-"

"No Ace bandage jokes, kid. Bad idea."

"Don't call me kid!"

"He's serious, Yahiko-kun. The last person to bring up that resemblance around a bunch of Wyghts was found strangled to death. With an Ace bandage." Shaking his head, Kenshin raised a brow at Misao. "Target Alpha is the Inquisition?"

"Natasha got listed as Arcanum," Misao nodded, still grinning.

"Ooo, ow." Sano licked his fingertip to mark an imaginary point in mid-air. "Score!" At Kenshin's puzzled look, he grinned. "Later."

"The Commune's down as the Camarilla, Red Moonrise as the Sabbat, Virus as constructs of the Technocracy..."

"Scarily accurate." If Sano grinned any wider, he was going to crack his face in half.

"And Aoshi-san got rescued from Domination by a Kitsune Kinfolk hedge-wizard wiping out the evil Hermetic Mage holding his Blood Bond!" Jumping up, Misao threw herself into Kenshin's arms.

"Oro?"

"Yeah!" Yahiko thrust a fist into the air. "Path of Shape-shifting fits with the claws, Healing, right, maybe a Numina for the speed-"

Peering around a blue-black braid as he tried to set Misao down, Kenshin raised an eyebrow at his little brother. "Just what have you been doing in your spare time?"

"Um... research?"

Kenshin raised the other brow.

"I'm serious!" Yahiko crossed his arms. "Maybe these guys don't have lots of cash to throw around, but they love having just the right stuff for game atmosphere. And we've got it."

"Good idea," Kenshin nodded. Cast a look Megumi's way. "Though it seems some aren't here for games at all."

"No," she admitted, scanning the shelves. Furniture, lamps, mirrors, yes; also herbs, essences, handmade paper, and crafted items galore. Everything a spell-flinger could ask for... at least, those that didn't indulge in the dark magic of living sacrifices.

"I didn't know," Kenshin said quietly.

Megumi gave him a fox's smile. "Dullahan's family ran this shop under the noses of the biggest Clave on the East Coast without getting caught. How could you know?"

"Well, Target Alpha's going to know now," Sano said grimly. Stopped, and backpedaled. "Ah... Kenshin did tell you..."

"That the shop's going to keep a red-flag list from now on?" Megumi gave him a dry smile. "It's what I would do if I were running the place, and knew which of my customers had a habit of demon-raising."

"So it doesn't bother you?" Sanosuke said warily.

"I didn't say that." Megumi heard the ice in her voice, didn't try to warm it. "They're Target Alpha. I don't trust them." She dropped a wink to the redhead. "But I trust you."

"Um..."

Ooo, he blushes! She added a little sparkle to her smile, watching red flush the swordsman's cheeks.

"That's - good," Kenshin managed, ducking aside from her gaze as if it were a Medusa's. "Because - you will be. Running the shop, that is. When I'm not here. Which I'm not sure when that will be, but given Sano's back on call, it could be anytime-" His head jerked up, and she all but heard his sigh of relief. "And it's time to open, I think someone's coming..."

"Quit playing with the poor guy," Sano grumbled under his breath, twirling the screwdriver as if he'd like to plant it somewhere painful. "Battousai's been celibate for at least a decade. And Kenshin hasn't even gotten up the nerve to ask Kaoru out on a date yet."

"Really?" Megumi gave him a cat with canary smile. "Fair game, then."

"His last girlfriend tried to eat him," Yahiko said darkly.

Details, details. It wasn't as if she planned anything serious. But he was just so sweet, and kind... and simply interesting to watch. Most Kin never sensed magic crash and surge around them, fueling their abilities even as it denied them access to the pure strength of spells.

Most Kin. But not Kenshin. Magic flowed through him, with him; not settling into the fixed patterns of a spellcaster, but flexing and changeable as the graceful 3-D videogame of the city's peregrines hunting through concrete canyons.

How does he do that?

"That was Yukishiro, right?" Clutching her computer, Misao shuddered. "You should see her record, Sano. It's scary."

"Is?" Sano said pointedly.

Yahiko went white, then green. "She's still out there?"

Misao nodded. "Vesalius Clinic, according to the last report- just where do you think you're going?"

"Um..." The kid's gaze slid toward Sano.

"The stuff in my trunk's for emergencies." The agent gave him a hard look. "And this is not an emergency. Yet."

"But she-"

"Got her head handed to her, last time she messed with your brother. Almost literally." Sano shook his head. "Uh-uh. Let it go. New York's a big place. Could go the rest of your life without ever crossing paths with her again."

Yahiko raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Okay; given your family's luck, that's not likely," Sano admitted. "But think about it. You want to go after her now, in the middle of a clinic that's got some of the nastier Kin in the Apple snatching people to feed it, when your brother's still wrapping his mind around the fact that yes, he can kill people - or do you want to wait?"

"I-"

"'Cause if you wait," Sanosuke cut him off, "you give us time to get Target Alpha on our side. You give us time to get the Commune on our side; Golgotha's already made it clear he thinks your brother's on the side of the angels, which is nothing to sneeze at. You give us time to get this mess with Shinomori and Misao straightened out - and let me tell you, kid, if I were going after somebody in as tight with Red Moonrise as the Yukishiros are, I'd want Itachi-jou backing me up on the information superhighway."

"Don't call me kid!"

"Don't call me Weasel Girl!"

Sano dodged two small fists, and gave the kid a serious look. "And even if none of that matters..." He nodded toward the front door.

"Er... Miss Kaoru, good morning..."

"It's just Kaoru, Kenshin. You know that." The young woman was standing just inside the shop's front door, breathing a little hard, poised on one foot to leap back out into the flow of the sidewalk. Her gym bag was slung over her shoulder, odd contrast to her dark blue professional-casual suit and pale blue shirt. "Can't stay long - data entry job, have to get there on time - Yahiko's going to be at practice tonight?"

"If I have to drag him; that he will." Violet watched her, shy and wary. "Would you be interested in stopping by for dinner tonight? It's as easy to make enough for six as five... well, perhaps eight, Dr. Gensai asked if Ayame and Suzume would be welcome..."

A hole in their wall with only a shoji to keep them apart, and he has to invite her to dinner? Megumi tried not to shake her head. That man is too shy for his own good.

Kaoru gave him a considering look. "Are you going to be at practice?"

"I'm not familiar with shinai, that I am not-" Kenshin swallowed visibly, and managed a weak smile. "I will - try, Kaoru-dono."

"Great!" Smiling, she stepped in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, then touched his hand and dashed out the door. "See you tonight!"

Dazed, Kenshin stood there blinking in the sunshine.

"If you wait, you give your brother time to be happy," Sano said softly. "Trust me, kid. That's worth more than any kind of revenge."

Intrigued, Megumi gave the rooster-head another look. "Well. Maybe there is more to that head of yours than hair."

"Why, you-"

She stuck out her tongue as he fumed, giggling inside. And then out loud, as Misao turned pink with stifled laughter and Yahiko lost the battle with his own snickers.

Kanryuu is gone, Megumi thought, as Kenshin shook off his daze and walked back toward them, still smiling. I have my life back. I have my soul back.

Anything could happen now.

And when it did, she'd hold onto this. Laughter. And sunlight.

I am Megumi Takani. Healer. Shopkeeper. Witch of New York.

And I will live free.

---------

Translations and info:

Clean and floss - to make a supernatural death appear normal and explainable.

Ekimmu - Kin created when somebody vows to look after a grave and then fails to; the rotted corpse rises as Kin. Often anti-human.

Hisofu - "great-grandfather".

Krrsd - a sort of insectoid metal demons, sometimes summoned by dark magic-workers.

LARP - Live Action Role-Playing.

Nowhere Men - the U.S. Army's 151st Airborne Division, whose combat troops are entirely Kin.

Soresu - form III lightsaber fighting, considered the best defense against blaster bolts.

What bound Aoshi was a "poison ring": platinum, iolite as the visible stone, the rest of the binding materials hidden in the sealed compartment under the setting. Platinum gives permanence to relationships (binds the spell effect). Iolite is a stone of finding, preventing the wearer from becoming lost. (Aoshi can't "get lost" from the position as Kanryuu's head of security no matter how he tries.) It's also a polarizer. Yep - dissociative identity time!

As enchanted powders:

Prehnite and Iolite - influence and control over entities.

Jet - control over life, thoughts, and feelings.

Lodestone - to draw the wearer back.

Amethyst - integrates emotional, mental and spiritual bodies to function as a single unit. So as the other components bind the spirit, they also bind the mind and emotions.

Epidote - protection against conflicting circumstances. Holds the dissociation intact.

Sardonyx - desired results in legal and contractual agreements.

Spinel - sets the ego aside.

All told, Shinomori's not brainwashed; the Okashira is technically in his right mind. It's just that the part of that right mind that's Aoshi is locked in a closet. He can't do anything against the bounds of his contract - and he can't take the ring off.

New Kin Race: Dragon

Ability Modifiers: +5 STR+20 DEX+5 FIT+5 WILL

Racial Edges: Alter Form (ki distraction/ illusion, much like Rakshasa; can be seen through under certain circumstances), Claws (permanent, only hidden by illusion), Healing, Infection (special, see below), Sense Acuity, Shunt.

Beginning Edges: Drain (blood), Speed, Ki-sense.

Common Edges: Locate Human, Nocturnal Vision.

Flaws: Environmental Harm (ultrasonics, 5 SP/BT).

Diet Supplement: Human or animal blood, 20 SP/week to avoid losing FIT to starvation.

Compulsion: Flamboyant/archaic dress and behavior, carrying at least one edged weapon.

Special: Unable to acquire Armor Edge. A Dragon can dodge, parry, and run like hell not to get hit - but like the near-human Sorcerers, if they get hit, it hurts.

Ki-sense: modified Danger Sense/Empathy. In a sense ki is the Aura, and as such is unique and recognizable as found in Aura Sight.

Infection: Dragons have a very hard time Infecting humans, and almost never do so accidentally. Drain alone will not suffice. The would-be "cub" must have a strong and malleable ki (high MA) and an equally strong will to live (high WILL). The Dragon must then remain in close contact with the cub until the Infection is complete; this is most easily accomplished by leaving one of its own fangs in the human's flesh (the canine tooth grows back, but yes, it does hurt, and definitely impairs Draining for a few nights), where it will dissolve over several days. Or weeks. Or longer. During this period of time, the Infected human will be increasingly edgy (as ki-sense begins to activate) and clingy (instinct driving it towards its new "parent" - though in the absence of the infecting Dragon, other relationships will find themselves with a suddenly-Velcro friend, lover, or family member).

Removing the fang before it dissolves may cause the Infection to fail (chance equal to the percent of fang left intact). Despite careful choice and ferocious protection of potential cubs, Dragons are rare. They are inter-fertile with humans, and can produce children - who will be humans with high MA and WILL, but usually not Dragons, unless Infected later.

New Combat Skill: Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu (DEX). Unusable to those without ki-sense, and not a good idea for ordinary humans, given the wear and tear on muscles and joints forced to supernatural speed and pinpoint precision. (1 SP/night of use, minimum. Note most humans can heal about 1-4 SP per night unwounded; Kin can usually heal more. Long-term use, and/or multiple fights without rest, could reasonably induce FIT damage.)

On the upside, besides the obvious lethal sword-skills, this sword school's training, speed, and mastery of one's own ki render the user completely unaffected by opponents' Armor Edge, or Deflections. A nasty surprise to those who think it's just an enchanted sword at work...