Kinslayer (The Lotus War #2)

The propellers whumphwhumphwhumphed as the vessel descended, more like a fat, wobbling bumblebee than a dragonfly. The pilots hammered at their consoles, struggling to hold the craft steady in the gale. Rain sluiced off the windshields as it touched down, shearing sideways across the glass as the wind tore at its hide.

Yukiko was slumped against an outcropping, barely conscious, her face black and blue. She’d watched Ilyitch cut the young arashitora from throat to belly, begin peeling the skin back from his flesh, so much blood she could taste metal as she breathed. She’d pushed feebly into Buruu’s mind the entire time, but Ilyitch’s lightning-thrower had knocked him into a slumber deeper than blacksleep could ever manage. Smooth, reptilian shapes pulsed in the water around them, but unless they could grow legs, the dragons wouldn’t be of any help. She could sense the female thunder tiger circling overhead, like a carrion bird above a battlefield.

Head splitting, blood pouring from her nose, she reached out to the arashitora above.

They’re going to skin him.

A mental blink.

—YōKAI-KIN.— Yukiko closed her eyes, maintained the link despite the volume and pain.

The gaijin killed Skraai. They’re going to do the same to Buruu.

—AND?—

Doesn’t that mean anything to you? These monkey-children are going to cut the skins from your kin’s backs and wear them as godsdamned trophies!

—WEAKLINGS TO BE CAPTURED AT ALL. SPENT THEIR STRENGTH FIGHTING EACH OTHER. AND FOR WHAT? I, WHO WANT NEITHER.— They were captured because of me! Because I trusted— —FAILING YOURS. NOT MINE.—

You can’t just let Buruu die!

—ONE LESS BUTCHER. ONE LESS FOOL.— With a bitter curse, Yukiko broke contact, pushed the female away with all her strength. She flexed her fists, trying to slip her hands free of her bonds. Her eye was swollen shut, bloody drool slicked on her chin. But the Kenning still roared inside her amidst the agony of her beating, so far beyond hurt it ceased to have meaning at all.

She could kill Ilyitch. She knew that now. She could feel it surging in her, stronger than it had been when she and her father lay Yoritomo low. But what about the rest of them? Could she kill them all?

If they touched Buruu, she’d sure as hells try …

The metal dragonfly’s belly split open, a hatchway disgorging half a dozen gaijin in red jackets, dark furs and bronze insignia. Danyk walked in the lead, still wearing her katana at his belt. A furious-looking Piotr stepped out behind him, a bloodstained bandage around his head. He scowled as soon as he spotted Yukiko, limping across the island toward her.

Danyk and the other gaijin gathered around Ilyitch, amazement on their faces. The boy flourished his knife, covered head to foot in blood, motioned to the butchered arashitora at his feet. Several younger gaijin clapped him on the back, all grins and laughter, as if he’d done something extraordinary rather than commit an atrocity. Even Danyk managed a grudging smile, extending a hand which Ilyitch shook with great enthusiasm.

They treat him like a hero …

Piotr knelt beside her, looked her over. Yukiko’s head was splitting; she could see three of the dark-haired gaijin swimming in the air before her. The ache grew blinding, the song of sledgehammers ringing in her skull.

“Not move.” His voice came from underwater. “Head. Head.”

Something thick and soft was being wrapped around her brow. She tried to reach up with bound hands, wrists rubbed raw, blisters on her palms torn and bleeding. She forced her eyes open, stared at the gaijin as the storm howled all around them.

“Stupid girl.” He shook his head. “Stupid.”

“Go to the hells,” Yukiko spat.

He reached toward her face and she flinched away, lashed out with her feet.

“You touch me I’ll turn your brain to soup, round-eye.”

“Eh?” A raised eyebrow. “Help. I help.”

“Help? You wanted to rape me, you bastard! Get the hells away from me!”

Piotr stared at her, aghast. “Rape? Trying to help you, girl.”

He glanced over his shoulder to the gaijin near Ilyitch’s prize, lowered his voice to a furious whisper.

“Stupid! I warn! I say! Tell for you to come with me. Using for the body!” The gaijin pointed to the arashitora laid out upon the stone, ran his hands down his shoulders, over his chest. “Using you. Gryfon body! Gryfon!”

“Arashitora…”

“Da! Arashitora body.”

“You…” Yukiko’s voice caught in her throat. “You were trying to warn me…”

“Now too late.” He shook his head. “Too late. Wear for the body. Great strength. Much prize for Ilyitch. Much prize.”

“Why would you warn me?” She narrowed her eyes. “Why help me?”

“Promise friend.”

“What friend?”

“Piotr!”

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