When My Heart Became Ice - Chapter 2

[[ D E J A • vu ]]

As I cry my family's blood . . .

“Kimata, where the hell were you?” Director Yukito snapped.

“My brother’s funeral,” Kyth muttered. “Thanks for your concern, idiot.”

Yukito grumbled and stood. “Well you have a job.”

Kyth glanced over to him, still wearing her funeral garb. “Already?” She asked. “What ranking?”

“Seven,” Yukito pulled out a clipboard from the bag that hung around his waist by a leather strap. “You’re to begin tomorrow morning at 6:00 a.m. sharp. A Kinjuki will meet you here at that time.

“I don’t need a Kinjuki,” Kyth looked over at him, removing the cloth from her eyes. “I can get there myself.”

“I’m the boss,” Yukito muttered defensively, but he crossed the ‘Kinjuki’ off the list.

“What’s the mission?” Kyth asked as she made her way up the stairs. Yukito followed, sifting through the many papers on the list.

“Retrieve a Cauldwyn that is believed to be destroying entire villages,” Yukito looked up at her. “Think you can handle that on your own?”

Kyth slowly pulled off the hat and veil. A river of silvery blue hair fell from it, swinging softly down to her waist. She turned, neck thin and elegant, pale as her heart-shaped face. Her purple and green eyes watched Yukito with a slight disdain, the light, feathery hair falling around her face and shoulders like a gorgeous frame to a piece of perfect artwork.

“I am Kyth Kimata,” Her eyes narrowed. “Of course I can do this alone. I’m not afraid of any Cauldwyn.” She turned to face him completely, pulling her gloves off. Intricate patterns ran from the tips of her fingers, curving around the slim graspers to make a delicate, complex circle design on the back of her pale hands.

“Ah…” Yukito glanced back down at his clipboard. “I’ll let him know, then…”

“Let who know?” Kyth advanced on Yukito, who backed against the wall, staring at her. “What did you do?”

“I-I got y-you your new partner, since y-your b-brother was killed in action last week…” Yuktio trailed off.

“A partner?!” Kyth yelled. “Why the hell would you do that?! Why’d you ask me if I could handle it on my own if you were just going to give me a partner?!”

“O-Oh, well, he’s n-not exactly your partner, more like… Y-you’re… U-Um…” Yukito glanced around the room frantically, searching for something to help him. “He’s just going along as well! Yes, he’s j-just an observer!”

Kyth trembled a moment, then backed away. She turned back towards her bedroom and strode inside. Yukito followed, nervously looking at his clipboard.

Kyth was the only woman that had ever turned him from mean, stern Director Yukito to the nervous, hysterical Yukito he was now. Only Kyth and her brother had been able to do that to him, and he begged the world to never let him meet another Kimata.

As though Kyth could read his mind, she said, “Rynu’s son was born two months ago. His name’s Alabaster.”

“After your father,” Yukito observed, slowly calming.

“Yes,” Kyth lifted her head slightly. “He has white hair and his eyes are such a light blue. It’s too unnatural for a human.”

Yukito gulped. “He’s a Reacher.”

“Mm hm, just like Rynu and me…”

“Another Kimata, huh…?”

“Yes. He’ll be the one to carry on the Legacy.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m female.”

Yumiko’s grey eyes turned hard. “You’re the idiot,” He growled at her. “Rynu didn’t want any of his human family to carry on the Legacy. He wanted you to, Kyth. Pushing it off onto a baby, your brother’s baby, no less. How cowardly.”

“I’m not a coward!” Kyth shrieked, turning on him. Her hands flew up and the patterns glowing a bright purple color. “Never call me a coward, understand that?!”

“Y-yes…” Yumiko stared, alarmed.

“Good,” Kyth lowered her hands, the patterns dulling once more. She turned away slowly, glancing towards her bed. “Give me the coordinates to the location tomorrow. I’ll be there. And tell my “observer” to watch his back. I might just eat it.”

Yumiko gulped and nodded.

He disappeared.

Kyth lowered herself onto the bed, pulling her boots off. Long, slim feet were revealed, and she slipped from the black dress as well. On her feet were the same design as the ones on her hands, reaching up over her shin, shifting to the outside of her thighs at the knees and ending at her hips.

Her body was a graceful, slim curve of an hourglass figure, covered only by the black tank top and shorts she wore. Her thin neck stretched over the soft sinews in her throat as she leaned her head back.

She sighed heavily.

Delicately, she brushed her soft, flowing hair back off of her shoulder. Her curved lips parted slowly. She let out a gentle breath.

“My word,” She whispered with her soprano voice. “It seems I have a job tomorrow with someone new. Let’s see how fun this turns out to be.”

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Syn Intuma lifted his head slowly and carefully, watching the silver-haired girl walk down the streets, hands shoved in her pockets. He had heard Director Yukito tell the girl’s partner, Yin Mikato, his assignment just last night and told him to stay away from his new partner.

This made everything perfect for Syn.

“So,” Syn smirked, his bright, cobalt blue eyes glaring. “You’re my new prey, are you? Kyth Kimata… You’re awfully pretty… Too bad I’ll have to cut you.”

Tossing his head to get his shaggy white hair from his deep eyes, his smirk widened into a grin, fangs showing. He pulled out his knife, slowly.

“I’ll love to cut your skin open and watch the blood spill out… You’re so pretty…”

He dove at her.

Within seconds, Kyth lifted her hands, slamming them against the lithe man’s chest, the markings glowing. She saw his face and the marks dulled and she shoved him harshly against the wall.

“Syn you idiot!” She hissed. “I’m on assignment! Don’t attack me like that!”

Syn rolled his bony, muscled shoulders around slowly, frowning. “That’s no fun,” He told her. “You need a challenge, Kyth. No one ever tries to kill you anymore.”

“Oh, serial killer my ass,” Kyth rolled her eyes. “You haven’t killed anyone since 1925.”

Syn snickered. “I still like messing with you,” He held his blade out to touch the flat of it to her pale skin. “Such beautiful, luminescent skin… I’ll love to make you bleed one day.”

“Shut up, moron,” She grumbled, pushing the blade away from her throat. “Come with me. You’ll be more help than anyone else they’re going to send.”

“Yes, master,” Syn rasped, grinning at his joke.

Kyth slapped the back of his head and Syn let out a soft whimper as he plodded along after the grumpy girl.

At 19—nearly 20—Syn was tall and slim. Though his bones showed through his pale skin, he had more muscle than most boys his age, and he was stronger than a body builder even in the worst of conditions. Kyth had seen him kill with a grace even when he had lost an arm and use of a leg. Being a Reacher, of course he healed fast, but Kyth would never forget those three weeks he had spent in the hospital, screaming as the bones, skin and muscle for his arm grew back. She had seen Syn scream before; he did it all the time. Just not like that.

“Shh,” Kyth leapt over to the wall, pressing her back against it. Syth followed her, grinning as the thrill of the chase rose in his chest. It took all his willpower to keep from laughing wildly.

Kyth tilted her head slightly, curved ears listening for the slightest sound that would hint the Cauldwyn was close.

“Retrieve,” She told Syn. “Not kill.”

Syn’s smile faded and he scowled. “That’s no fun,” He pouted, and Kyth suddenly disappeared from his side as she leapt out of the way of the thin beam of dark orange light that smashed through the thick stone wall, sending shards of granite flying. The debris was hammered at Syn, making him cry out as cuts of blood appeared on his face, tearing up the white t-shirt he wore to slice at his arm.

“Move, idiot!” Kyth’s voice snarled at him.

Immediately, Syn leapt upwards, landing with unnatural, cat-like grace on the top of the 10 foot high stone wall. His blue eyes piercing the darkness, he watched as another beam of light struck the wall, blowing a hole straight through it.

Balancing on one leg, he focused through the ebony of the night, following the last glow of the beam’s trail to its source. A Cauldwyn, hunched over and snarling like the animal it was, breathed in deeply, getting ready for its next blow.

“Kyth, to your left behind the wooden boxes!” Syn yelled.

Kyth’s graceful body was suddenly soaring above him in a gorgeous arc, silvery hair streaming behind her like a shimmering ribbon. Her arms held out for balance, toes pointed to catch herself after the 50 foot back flip, she landed behind the Cauldwyn. Before it could even turn to see who it was, Kyth’s long, slender leg flashed out, slamming into the creature’s back.

The Cauldwyn was propelled forward and it smashed against the wall, a huge explosion of smoke billowing from its mouth as its beam was let loose. Letting out a pain-filled whine, it struggled to lift itself from the wall that had cracked under the impact. Syn grinned, knowing it was his turn now.

Sheathing his knife into its navy blue holder that was attached to his belt, he pulled a piece of golden thread from a small pouch—also attached to his belt—and he whipped it out as he leapt down. Obediently, the golden thread stretched, wrapping around the Cauldwyn tightly as it let out an anguished roar.

Syn landed on his feet, gracefully and silently. He grinned as the giant creature hit the floor.

Kyth dropped down beside him, crouching down to look at the Cauldwyn.

It had a large, oval head that sat on a long, slim neck. A pointed muzzle ended in a dark black nose that was always wet. Silky black fur covered its dog-like body, though it had cloven hooves on its back legs and four fingered paw-like hands on its front legs. Large dewdrop shaped black eyes watched them with alarm. Delicate, leathery ears pointed upwards, the tips split only barely in two. The creature, all in all, was about 11 feet tall and weighed nearly a ton.

Syn flicked the golden thread around the Cauldwyn’s mouth, which had opened wide, revealing sharp fangs. The thread snapped the creature’s mouth shut and it whined in protest.

“Good boy,” Kyth gave Syn’s head a pat before stalking off in the other direction.

“Wait, where are you going?” Syn called. “I don’t have a transporter!”

“Then drag it,” Kyth muttered.

Syn looked back at the Cauldwyn, and it stared at him with big black eyes.

“You made me do it,” He grumbled to it, and slung the golden string over his shoulder and began pulling.

The Cauldwyn roared unhappily as it was dragged mercilessly across the cobblestones.

Kyth continued walking, eyes dull.

No mercy to anyone.

The Order had taught her that. Her brother had taught her compassion.

Her heart was confused.

Her mind told her that the Order was right; you always obeyed the Order. But what about Rynu? Her older brother had taught her everything she could possibly hope for, and he had left her with the Legacy when he had died.

Now what was she to do?

“Kyth,” Syn whined. “This thing’s too heavy. Don’t you have a transporter?”

Kyth tossed the small box back to him. Syn caught it, grinning, and shoved it to the Cauldwyn. The box immediately flashed, turning into a floating cage. The Cauldwyn curled up apprehensively, covering its face.

“That’s better,” Syn nodded his approval as he recalled the golden string and it shrunk back to the foot-long piece of thread. Syn tucked it into its pouch with the others of its kind. He pressed his hand to a flat surface on the transporter and it blinked brightly, letting him know that it recognized his power signature and would follow him.

Smirking, Syn trotted after Kyth, and the transporter followed, carrying the distressed Cauldwyn with it.

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My heart and my mind battle for control