Yashakiden: The Demon Princess, Volume 2 (12 page)

A muffled, crunching sound rang out—Shuuran's shoulders dislocating. She groaned aloud. He tore open the front of her dress. She wore nothing underneath. Her breasts swayed, larger than outward appearances suggested. The old man buried his face between them like a hungry dog and gnawed on her flesh.

She threw her head back. “
Ahhh—
” Vampires could feel pain.

“Getting all worked up, are you? Your nipples are nice and hard. Think about it. At this rate, you'll never sleep with Ryuuki. You've traveled together for two thousand years. Despite the mutuality of your feelings, you are as chaste as a nun to him. You'll just have to summon more of those men and treat yourself to more Sumptuous Feasts.”

“Stop it.”

“I understand. The vampire's nature.” Kikiou licked Shuuran's gasping throat. A band of saliva glimmered on her white skin. “But the cruel, hard fact of the matter is, know love once, and you will willingly consign yourself to the depths of hell and madly drown yourself in its passions. Right now, as far as you are concerned, you could never love another man the way you love Ryuuki. Even knowing he is Princess's love slave.”

“But he—he doesn't love her.”

“Of course not. All the more reason to keep reincarnating him no matter how many times he dies. How long will it take to get the person who doesn't love you to confess that he does? We are indeed an accursed lot.”

The old man abruptly pressed his lips against Shuuran's. She reflexively twisted her face away, but not before his slippery-wet tongue plunged into her mouth. Shuuran lost the power to resist.

He stripped off the rest of her clothing. Beneath his watchful eyes and the tent of his robes, her white-hot body gyrated like a writhing snake.

“You cannot stop me. You were mine before Ryuuki ever desired you. Remember that. We wouldn't want him to know, now would we? Regardless of how resigned to reality he professes himself to be, you could not bear him finding out. So we shall proceed according to my previous instructions. Look at the bright side. You put your life on the line and chose to save Ryuuki instead. It would be worth it, even if you are destroyed in the process. No?”

Kikiou waited for her reply. Shuuran nodded, without really knowing why.

“There is one thing I've always wanted to try—”

Licking her breasts, his mouth trailed up her chest and sucked at her throat.

“
Ahh—
” The beautiful woman's body shuddered. Two threads of blood trickled from where his mouth was fastened to the skin like a remora.

“The blood of a vampire. How does it taste to you?”

“Stop. Not that.”

“There's no stopping at this point. I need you body and soul. I need to bring you down to the depths, so that I can have you like a puppet on a string.”

“
Ahh—
!” She gasped. Her muscles spasmed. He thrust his bloody finger into her mouth. Her lips closed around his finger. Her teeth raked against his flesh, staining both with blood.

“How is the flavor? Is it sweet? Tart? How much of this aroma can you stand? Oh, look, you're licking it. With that nice red tongue. Patience—”

Kikiou stuck the bloody finger into his mouth and then covered Shuuran's lips with his own. Shuuran sucked hard enough to draw in her cheeks. Their tongues intertwined and intermingled, as did their blood.

Shuuran growled like a wild animal. Her eyes flashed like rubies. Fangs sprang into her mouth. She attached her lips to Kikiou's neck. But search as she might for the throbbing arteries, the fangs sank only a few fractions of an inch into the skin.

“Ha. No matter how many lives a man might have, you'll never be satisfied. In all your bloodlust you forgot what this body is made of.”

Kikiou reached up to his collar with his talon-like fingers and spread open his robes.
What manner of creature was this?
A silver shaft pierced his body from his neck down to the top of his pelvis, which itself resembled a large metal toy top. His arms and legs consisted of smaller cylinders that meshed with the central shaft. The joints in the regions of his shoulders and pelvis were a fusion of tubes and gears.

Perhaps as a means of maintaining balance, or as a source of energy, in the center of the spine two ring-shaped objects constantly revolved at oblique angles to each other. They didn't appear to be in physical contact with any other part of his torso.

“You can use him well, this Setsura Aki?”

With deliberate actions more obscene than his words, he painted her face with his bloody finger. Nodding over and over, Shuuran crushed her mouth against his cruel lips.

Although most of the patients in Mephisto Hospital were residents of Demon City, many were relatives and friends of friends. But this kind of relative was a first since the hospital had opened.

After finishing Setsura's examination and observing nothing out of the ordinary, Mephisto suggested meeting with Takako Kanan.

“It hasn't been that long since I saw her last. Why do you ask? Has she taken a turn for the worse?”

“My. Aren't you in a lone wolf mood today.”

“Like you'd never have a day like that. C'mon, I'm in no mood to be playing with dolls.”

“Better that you call her a
fantoccini
.”

“Marionette. Whatever. In any case, hurry up and do something about
my
state of health. I'm beginning to question your reputation.”

“I have got my shoulder to the wheel.”

“I'm looking for another scholar with the same degree of knowledge as Professor Niwa. I'll let you know what turns up.”

With that, Setsura started for the door.

“Oh,” said Mephisto, in a meaningful manner. Setsura stopped. A grimace rose to his expressionless face. Mephisto said, “I will be attending the Elder's funeral services after this. If you are not otherwise engaged, I would like you to come along.”

Setsura rolled his eyes. “Sure, why not.”

“Fine, then. Before that, you may accompany me to Miss Kanan's room. We will depart directly from there. There is still time.”

And so the two of them came to meet Takako's bespectacled mother in the reception area of the special isolation wing where Takako was being held.

“I'm Tomoko Kanan. And you must be Doctor Mephisto?”

“Yes, I am Mephisto,” he replied with a polite bow.

In a voice that was the audible equivalent of shoving an ice pick through his forehead, Mrs. Kanan shrieked, “My word! And just what is your sorry excuse for the abominable way this hospital is run?”

“The way the hospital is run?” responded Mephisto, as coolly as ever.

“Yes, the way this hospital is run. I haven't been sitting around in the waiting room so I could be served expensive tea. I came here to see my daughter. What's the hold up? All the runarounds and delays? I asked if she was in critical condition, but all the nurses will say is that her life is not in danger. But they can't tell me anything concrete. This is not the kind of attitude I expect from an institution that purports to call itself a hospital!”

Standing behind Mephisto, Setsura said in a low voice, “I couldn't agree more.”

“Doctor, what exactly is the condition of my daughter, Takako? I'm beginning to believe she's caught some sort of contagious illness.” The glare in her eyes shot through them like a pair of laser beams.

Mephisto nodded. “To be perfectly honest, she contracted a disease that is very close to what you describe.”

“That's what I thought.” Behind the glasses, anxiety colored her eyes.

“But please don't worry. Her life is not in danger. I assure you that her condition will not deteriorate as long as we keep her here.”

“And exactly how long will that be?”

“A month, roughly speaking.”

“In the meantime, can't she be transferred to another hospital?”

“What about our hospital do you find so intolerable?”

“I have no complaints about the facilities. It was obvious from the moment I passed through the front doors. The facilities are top-notch, the staff and doctors well-disciplined. I'm impressed that, above all, the patients appear to be treated equally without regard to financial or social status. However, I cannot agree that there are no grounds to criticize the environment in which this hospital is located. I've been interested enough to visit several times in a professional capacity. And each time, the treacherous charms of this city become all the more impossible to ignore. No matter how high-minded one's spirit and intentions, the atmosphere pervading this city corrupts and corrodes it. No person should be left to convalesce here, regardless of the good or bad qualities of the hospital itself.”

“Good point,” Setsura agreed.

Mephisto ignored him. “Your daughter's illness can only be treated here. I will not disagree with everything you say, except that just as we go to a hospital to be healed of a disease while residing among the diseased, only in this corrupt city can we hope for a cure.”

“Hope for a cure from what?”

“Your daughter was bitten by a vampire. There is no cure for that anywhere but here.”

The woman's mouth half-opened. The handsome physician looked back at her with an ice-cold serenity. Five full seconds passed. Tomoko Kanan said, “Surely you jest! That is the product of someone's imagination run wild, like something out of a fairy tale.”

“I'm sorry, ma'am,” said Mephisto.

“This is Demon City,” added Setsura.

Mephisto glared at him over his shoulder. Setsura counted the tiles on the ceiling.

“I just don't know what to think about that—her associating with anything but
people
—that vampires really exist—I guess I'll have to put my faith in you, Doctor Mephisto—if you don't object—”

“As you please,” Mephisto said kindly. “If you wish, I can take you to see your daughter. The two of us will accompany you. I will prepare a sedative. Is that fine with you?”

“Yes. Let's go. I don't think I'll need a sedative.”

“Fine, then.” For the first time, a faint smile creased Mephisto's lips.

Tomoko touched her hand to cheek. She blushed. The passions escaping from the cracks in her emotional state had begun to activate her aesthetic sensibilities.

“Hey, Doctor Hippocrates,” Setsura needled him. He spoke in low tones that sounded like a monk reciting a Buddhist prayer.

Mephisto pretended not to hear. He passed through a door, then Tomoko, with Setsura bringing up the rear.

“Um—” Tomoko said to Mephisto, as they proceeded down the hall.

“What is it?”

“Who is he?”

“The person most directly connected to the incident involving your daughter. In fact, she was at his bedside when she was attacked.”

Tomoko looked at Setsura. The belligerent attitude of a middle-aged lady returned to her face. When Setsura stared at the ceiling a third time, it was Mephisto's turn to smile.

“And what is your occupation, young man?”

“I own a
senbei
shop.”

“Can you tell me specifically what went on there?”

“Ah—”

After a dialogue that was pretty much a repeat of what had gone on between Tomoko and Mephisto, they arrived at Takako's room.

Observing her daughter's vacant eyes turned toward the heavens—eyes set against a bluish, waxy complexion—the two punctures swelling out from the base of her neck like a pair of tumors—Tomoko fully grasped the reality of the situation.

Out of consideration, Mephisto temporarily dismissed the strategically-positioned security personnel.

Setsura felt the lingering doubts he harbored since he'd been discharged that afternoon being rekindled. He'd been attacked, Takako had tasted the poison of the demon woman's fangs, and then she'd busted through Mephisto Hospital's heralded defenses without breaking a sweat.

By all rights, he should be the one turning into a hell beast.

But as far as Mephisto was concerned now, all that commotion was beside the point. Setsura had to wonder what more than his soaring pride was sitting on the doctor's mind.

Tomoko's questions came one after the other. The relationship between her daughter and Setsura. Why she'd been tending to him in the first place. Why she'd been possessed by the strange disease.

Setsura replied that their relationship was simply one between a
senbei
shop owner and his guest. She'd been with him when he collapsed, and had accompanied him here. He didn't know why she should have contracted this “disease.”

For the time being, Tomoko accepted these explanations at face value, though she still wasn't satisfied. She wanted to know more about the nature of the vampires. To which Setsura replied by drawing his breath in between his teeth and tilting his head to the side.

“Where do they come from?”

“From China, it seems.”