AN- For those that review, thank you. I’ve been busy at home, and when it comes to writing or replying to reviews, I tend to side on the writing. Up until a few chapters back, I’ve been replying to just about every single one. That’s roughly 900 replies from me, and a whole hell of a lot of writing. As for another matter that is slightly upsetting on my part, for those that want the lemons marked, and have even commented upon the rating as being too high for you, I have been marking them. If you read the AN’s, they are all clearly marked with (&). If you still feel the story is too racy for you, rather than comment upon it, you are free to move to another story. I am writing this, and I was never fond of backseat driving.

Chapter Thirty

Noriko stirred on the floor. Robe sprawled in elegant disarray about her slender limbs, she sat up. She had been in the bathroom, having just risen from her daily bath, when an odd light had blown through her window and entered her body with frightening speed.

Gripping the cool surface of the marble sink, she pulled herself up. As soon as her vision cleared, she gasped at the sight that met her in the mirror. A shaking finger traced the crescent moon that shone brightly on her forehead, glowing as it had not done since her transformation.

She inhaled deeply and, for once, didn’t recoil in sensory overload. “Sesshoumaru,” she whispered to her reflection, the green-eyed, dark-haired beauty almost unrecognizable, as it had been so long since she had looked upon her own face. Her new lushly-curved figure trembled in the faint chill of the air-conditioning, and she laughed hollowly. There was only one way she could fathom that could account for the change. Her son had used the Jewel. For her.

After everything she had not done for him, for all the times she had ignored him in favor of wallowing in her own self-pity, he had repaid her by returning that which she could never have attained. Her true self.

Not only that, she realized, but freedom from the ignominy of being mated to the Tashio! The oppressive power that had once clasped her essence within its possessive grasp was gone. Immediately, the urgent need to return to Japan struck her. It was one thing to remove the Tashio from power. It was quite another to take his mate. He was never fond of her-she had lived with the truth of her gullibility for centuries now-but he viewed her as his property.

Sesshoumaru’s wish, in freeing her, had potentially deadly consequences. As set out by the old laws, her son had committed a grievous crime against his father by interfering between mates. As such, the Tashio was entitled to challenge Sesshoumaru to regain face. If he lost… She couldn’t let that happen. Not to him, and not to the faceless woman who had inspired her son to taste freedom.

It was assumed, in the archaic way males had functioned since the dawning of life, that ‘might made right.’ There was nothing she could do to stop the Tashio from challenging Sesshoumaru. Even if she were to sacrifice herself to a renewed mating, he could still be in the right to challenge Sesshoumaru. However, she just had to be there. For once, she would stop running and would stand her ground.

Hastily leaving the bathroom, Noriko flew to the closet and donned a green silk pantsuit before hurrying from the room. Her belongings could wait. She needed to get to Japan. She hoped she wouldn’t be too late.

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Violet gaze troubled, Miroku stared down on the corpses that had been brought into the morgue as soon as he came in to the station that morning. He had been hard at work on the serial murder case for weeks now. After ruling out Takeo, as the man had both an alibi and a leaky motive, the case had been stalled for days. Now there were two more victims. Neither fit the mold of the killer’s past victims, however.

A contemplative look composed his fine-boned features into a mask of reluctant concentration. Kagura, as much as he loved her, had been withdrawing from him lately. The reason behind it was unknown, despite his best efforts in discussing it. Last night, at dinner, however, she had dropped the bomb on him by casually stating that it would be their last get-together.

He’d been shocked but not terribly surprised. She was like the wind, and he had never made the mistake in attempting to cage her. He had hoped that she would come to feel for him as he did her, of course, as no man in his right mind enjoyed unrequited emotion. He had thought she was a perfect match for him. In bed, she was wild and unrestrained. Add to that her sarcastic wit and cunning, and he had fallen hard.

Perhaps too hard. Hard enough to overlook certain aspects of their relationship, aspects that had not seemed to mean a great deal but were now looking to prove problematic.

Given who she was, she had to have known about her true origins. That she was, in fact, the granddaughter of the Tashio. She had never told him, nor anyone else, however. Last night, she had laughed away his pointed questions. “It doesn’t matter, as he was no grandfather to me,” had been her reply.

She had been wrong. It had mattered deeply to him, and he had, had every intention of fighting for her to give them a second chance. Now that wasn’t an option.

He turned away from the cold bodies, unable to look upon them anymore. Especially not her. The attendant glanced up from the clipboard she held competently between clawed fingers. “Are the identities correct?” she asked detachedly.

He nodded. “The man is Kin Nakagawa. The female,” he swallowed and sighed, “the female is Kagura Onigumo.” The crushing feeling that overcame him threatened to bring him to his knees. Whatever else Kagura had been, she had, for however brief a time, been his.

The attendant nodded and made a note. “Right. Do you want me to treat this as a murder-suicide? Or do you think this is something else?”

Glancing at her askance, Miroku asked, “What makes you think this is a murder-suicide?”

She shrugged. “The preliminary autopsy has revealed that her claws are coated in his blood, and it is her DNA that is in the wounds inflicted on the male. The nature and number of the wounds suggest that the killer was intent on causing as much physical pain as possible before giving the killing blow to the head. She, on the other hand, appears to have been killed by poison. It is a popular way for women to commit suicide.” After scribbling another notation in the margins of the paper, she added, “The DNA swabs haven’t come back yet from the lab on the rape kit I ordered. Something about an accident stalling the results. There were seminal fluids. It could have been a case of lover’s rage… ”

He felt like he had been kicked in the gut. So soon after they had parted, she had been with another? Just who was Kagura? Had she been seeing another behind his back this entire time, a male she had run to as soon as she had left him heartbroken in the restaurant?

The attendant continued, unaware of Miroku’s inner turmoil. “Who knows? Maybe they quarreled over the baby.”

“Baby!” he shouted out in shock.

Finally sensing that he wasn’t as objective as she was, the attendant beetled her brows. “Is there something wrong?”

Miroku fought to regain his composure. “How far has the autopsy gone?” he asked rather than reply to the query.

Narrowed eyes regarded him minutely before she answered, “The fetus was killed by the poison. I removed it to determine the DNA of the father and ran it through the database. There weren’t any matches, so I was left to assume the father was yet another of her lovers.”

Head spinning, Miroku stumbled from the room without waiting for her to finish the report. Baby, he thought while making his way to the quiet of his office. Kagura had been pregnant. And it wasn’t his child. As part of being on the force, he was required to surrender DNA samples to be added to the database. And he didn’t match. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or if the betrayal swimming in his gut was the lesser of two evils.

How could he have so completely misjudged her character? And what of Kagome? She had been close friends with Kagura. Had she known of the betrayal? Almost as immediately as the thought occurred to him, Miroku dismissed it. He might have been sadly lacking in judgment in regard to Kagura, but he knew Kagome. There had always been an elusive quality to Kagura, something hidden. He had dismissed it as simple feminine mystique. Kagome, on the other hand, had always been an open book. You always knew where you stood with her.

Always.

And now, Kagura was dead. Kin, his only other lead in the murders, was dead too. Someone, he knew, had put a lot of time and effort into making it look like a murder-suicide. The bodies had been discovered together in a seedy motel in downtown Tokyo.

Something didn’t make sense about the scenario, however. Kagura would sooner pluck out her own eyes than condescend to patronize such a place. That much he knew with absolute certainty. Nor, as fastidious a creature as she was, would she dirty herself with anyone’s blood if she could help it. If she had poison on hand, she would have sooner used it or even the cutting winds he had seen her deploy once. No. Something was wrong with the set up, something that only he could see with his intimate knowledge of the female in question.

It was related to the murders, his instincts screamed at him. If it weren’t for the fact that Kin was male, he would have immediately assumed him another victim of the murderer based on the similar wound pattern and ferocity of the attack. Somehow, Kin had become a threat to the killer, he was sure of it. Where Kagura fit into all of it, Miroku was unsure.

However, given the timing of her death so close to Naraku’s unmasking as the bastard heir of the Tashio, he knew where to look. It was time to follow the facts out of the maze of intrigue and deception. He slid open the door to the office and sunk into the cushioned seat behind the metal and chrome desk. Pulling a piece of paper out of his drawer, he began making notes. Beginning with the first lead, he started out with Kagome.

“Miroku?” the hesitant tone of the caller broke through the brewing storm.

“Kagome?” he asked in disbelief. “Is everything alright?” The last time he had seen her had been a brief stop off at the hospital to make sure she was alright after the whole issue with the subway. Torn up over Kagura’s defection and the caseload at work, he hadn’t been able to keep in contact. In the background, he could hear a male voice soothing her. Sesshoumaru, he realized.

“I’m fine, Miroku. I was talking to Sesshoumaru this morning, though, and realized that you might not know about Ryoko.” Kagome sighed as her mate scowled at her, but he made no move to silence her. He hadn’t liked the idea of bringing the human authorities into the matter further than they were, but given that Ryoko was human, Kagome thought it best to arm Miroku with all the information they had.

“Ryoko?” he repeated softly, the name ringing a few bells. Ryoko had donated heavily to the task force Naraku had formed. Things were certainly hectic, with Naraku’s disappearance coming on top of the Tashio’s removal from office, but they fought to hold on until a new Sheriff could be appointed.

Why hadn’t he thought to look at Ryoko? he asked himself after Kagome finished informing him of the man‘s involvement. One of the first rules of investigation was to follow the money. The second was that there were hardly any coincidences. After letting her go, he hung up the phone. Glancing at the thought matrix, Miroku mentally added Ryoko to the equation. His eyes widened marginally in excitement.

It was about damn time he got a break!

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Rearing back in disbelief as power he had surrendered centuries ago slammed into him with the force of a feral Daiyoukai, the Tashio almost fell as he staggered about drunkenly. “How?” he breathed out, incredulous. He recognized the faint hint of Noriko on the returning essence. How had she managed to free herself of his bond? It had never been done!

Suddenly, he realized what had happened. Outrage swam in his veins as the vision of his cursed pup swam before his eyes. His son, who had just so happened to have in his possession both a jewel and a miko sickeningly willing to harness it. Temper boiling, he snatched up the hotel room’s phone and, ignoring Izayoi’s worried questions, dialed the traitor’s number.

As soon as Sesshoumaru answered, the Tashio didn’t bother with pleasantries. “The Coliseum, you ungrateful whelp. You have two hours. I, the Tashio, challenge you to a fight to the death in recompense for the insult to my mate, Noriko, in sundering our bond,” he snarled out. The silence on the other end of the line appeased his bestial nature that envisioned the other male cowering. “Enjoy your mate, Sesshoumaru, for I know you took her. I shall be sure to compensate her for your death in the most… pleasant of ways.”

The line was disconnected, and the Tashio could only assume that Sesshoumaru hung up. He smiled, all fangs and ill-intent. It appeared he didn’t need to wait to fight the pup in the Tournament, after all. Sesshoumaru had handed him the perfect opportunity to get rid of him before the battle for the Western Territory.

How fortuitous.

Sesshoumaru could have interfered in the plans that he and Ryoko had decided to follow through on during the Grand General Championship. Dead, he would pose no threat, and the Realm would fall. All of those officious youkai who had thought to control and condemn him in the trial would pay, and pay dearly.

Recognizing the identity of the caller, Inuyasha answered on the second ring when his cell began to warble. “Hey mom,” he said absently.

“Inuyasha, can you come get me?” she asked, voice trembling.

Immediately coming to attention at the fearful voice, he asked, “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

Izayoi sniffled. “Your father, Inuyasha, he’s-There’s something wrong with him.”

Privately musing that there had always been something off about his old man, even as much as he hated the idea that he had been so blind to that fact, Inuyasha inquired soothingly, “Where are you?”

“I’m at the hotel. I left the room. He just… I think he just challenged Sesshoumaru, Inuyasha. They’re supposed to meet in the Coliseum in two hours. I don’t know why, but then he also said something about Sesshoumaru’s mate. He’s… Something is wrong!” she wailed.

Inuyasha leaped to his feet and made for the door. He waved away Shippo, the kitsune having come to visit him in the small hotel room he’d rented, and ordered, “Leave the hotel, mom. Get a cab to take you to-” he broke off read the address on the back of the door and related it to her over the phone.

“Are you sure? What if he follows me there?” she asked fearfully.

He glanced at Shippo. “I’ll leave Shippo here. He’s going to take you to his father’s house. You’ll be safe there.” Shippo nodded his agreement to the plan even without knowing all of the particulars.

“Okay,” she agreed in a small voice. The noisy lobby was heard over the line as she paused. “What are you going to do?”

Squaring his shoulders, Inuyasha declared, “Sesshoumaru is going to need witnesses to make sure the old man fights fair. I’ll be back after to check up on you.”

Forestalling her protestations, he gently returned the phone to his pocket after shutting it. Inuyasha turned to Shippo. “Dad’s challenged Sesshoumaru. I don’t know why, yet, but it’s got to be good if he thinks it would allow him to do so after everything that’s happened. I’m going to the Coliseum. I need you to stay here and take mom to your place.”

Shippo scratched is head. “Will do. Are you sure you want to get involved in all of this, though?” he was unable to avoid asking. Sesshoumaru had never been there for Inuyasha, that was for sure. With everything that had happened with the Tashio, Inuyasha had been subjected to a great deal of ridicule, since he had been the heir at the time of the Tashio’s trial. Disinherited, Sesshoumaru had actually managed to gain status with the Tashio’s tarnished reputation.

Gazing out the window, Inuyasha saw only the face of his mate superimposed over the understanding eyes of his half-brother’s woman. “Yeah. It’s just something I’ve gotta do.”

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The ruins of the phone fell to ‘plink’ harmlessly off the hard floor. Kagome stared up at her mate worriedly. “What’s wrong?” she asked from his side.

Sesshoumaru turned hard eyes on his woman. “My father has challenged me for freeing mother. I am to meet him in two hours to battle to the death.”

She paled. “What? How? He can’t do that!” she cried out.

“Unfortunately,” he explained, “he can.” He closed his eyes to the fear swimming in her dark blue gaze.

“Did you know?” she asked quietly after a minute of silence. Had he kept this potential consequence from her, knowing that she would have fought against it?

He slanted her a wary look, remembering his promise to not keep such things from her. He couldn’t reply, but that was more than enough of an answer for her.

“Damn you!” she shouted, flying at him to beat him on the chest. Sobbing wildly, not even realizing it in the chaotic mix of fury, fear, and frustration that fed her strength, she was caught and held in his strong embrace. “Why?” she begged for him to explain.

Burying his nose in her hair, surrounding her in the warmth of his love and willing her to understand, he explained, “Because it means nothing to us, but could mean everything for them.” Gripping her tightly, he claimed her lips in a hard kiss, possessing her easily as she opened to him even in her anger. He pulled away once she was breathless and unable to summon another word.

Her tears offended him, and he wiped them away before adding in a softer voice, “I am no longer the heir. In many ways, I have resented the responsibilities and was not unduly upset by their removal. However, I do feel responsible for putting an end to my father’s reign. In the Tournament, so much can happen, Kagome. So many variables that I cannot control. Even if I were to win, I would be in the same position I was in before. I do not lust for the power, not anymore. If I can remove father from the competition, then the title and the lands will move to another for the first time in over three thousand years.”

She calmed in his embrace, but continued to sniffle. “He’s been alive that long?”

“It did not begin with my father, but my grandfather, Kagome. He was as much of a bastard, if not more so. The other lands have found a sort of peace between youkai and humans, but Japan is in upheaval still. As long as we war among each other, it will never end. It is time to stop the violence, time to begin a new reign.”

She chuckled half-heartedly. “I thought I wouldn’t be alive to witness a new society.”

He gripped her tightly to his chest. “This is a small step, but if I can manage to keep the Tournament clean of father’s influence, perhaps a new face will rise to claim the Western Territories. It is the only hope, as near as I can see, for Japan to institute more change.”

She had no choice but to acknowledge his truths. “I still think a part of you wanted to free your mother,” she said as an after thought.

“She earned it. There were many ways in which I could have aroused him to challenge me. Her freedom was not necessary to do so, but I would rather know she had returned to her own kind with her honor intact than on the death of her mate.” She would never forgive herself if she had been a part of her mate’s death.

Kagone shivered in his arms, and he pulled his essence about them. “Will you win?” she asked.

Rather than take offense, he answered, “I have too much to live for not to.”

Gulping, she closed her eyes to the unspoken truth that hovered menacingly behind his words. He might have too much to live for, but now, his father had absolutely nothing to lose.