Dark Tempest (Red Winter Trilogy, #2)

by Annette Marie

Only after she’d dropped down on a cushion between them did the surreality of the moment strike her—her, a mortal girl, sitting with two dangerous yokai. How casually she’d joined them, as though she somehow belonged in their company.

As she went down, she felt herself falling into his eyes, sinking into their depths. From within the shadows of his gaze, something ancient looked out at her, something wise and cunning and dangerous. Something that whispered to her and called to her soul.

“I felt something. Just not memories.”

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“You promised me,” he said softly. “That means you have to come back.” “I will,” she whispered. “I won’t break my promise.”

“You’re going to go off with them alone again?” He pulled his hand back from the teacup as his fingers balled into a tight fist. “That’s too dangerous, Emi. Not even counting the Tengu, it’s too dangerous for you to be alone with that kitsune. The way he looks at you …” She set the chopsticks down, frowning at Katsuo. “How does he look at me?” “Like he wants to devour you.” A blush tinted Katsuo’s cheeks. “I know he was taunting me on purpose, getting me angry just because he could. I saw what he was doing, but I couldn’t stop myself from reacting, not when he kept looking at you like you belonged to him.”

“What do you want, yokai?” “Isn’t it obvious?” Shiro’s face dipped close to hers again as he pulled her back into his chest, pressing their bodies together. “I want your kamigakari all to myself.”

Yumei smiled, and Emi shivered at the sight. “Did you forget, Jorogumo?” he asked softly, darkness sliding through his voice. “I am not a mere Lord of Crows. I am the Prince of Shadows, and always do my soldiers await my call.”

“Does it get easier when you live a long time?” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Or does pain still cause the same suffering? Does regret still make it hard to breathe?” Yumei brushed his hand over the grass. “With each year, each century, the burdens only grow. Yokai who cannot bear the weight do not survive. The loss of a life”—he glanced at Shiro—“is one regret among many that I must always carry.” She sniffed, wiping her cheek with her sleeve. “Maybe the yokai who can’t carry the burdens of a long life are the ones who stop coming back after they die. They don’t want to hurt anymore.” “Perhaps,” he murmured.

Love Yumei 💜

“It must be nice to know you’ll come back though, right? You don’t have to be so afraid to die …” “What about death is to be feared? The burdens of life can be so great that it would be a comfort to know that someday it will end … that someday, we will have earned the final rest.”

“Yumei noticed. He’s been searching for you and the others.” Emi glanced around. “Why didn’t you bring him here too? I’m sure he wants to see you.” “I dare not bring him this far, this deep. Tsuchi loves its dark prince and would never let him go.”

“You are doing incredibly well. Your courage and strength are clear to me, and to Amaterasu, I am certain. Though you will pass from this life too soon, we who are immortal will never forget you. You will live on with us for all time.”

“I will tell them all,” she promised. “Sarutahiko will nod solemnly—he is always solemn—and he will commit every word perfectly to memory, to honor you. Susano will say nothing, for he rarely speaks of heartfelt matters, but pride will light his eyes for your courage. And Inari will laugh and say, ‘What a bold girl! I would have been pleased to meet such a spitfire child.’”

“An outdoor shelter won’t be enough for a human. The miko is already a block of ice.” Irritation skimmed Yumei’s eyes as it always did whenever her fragile humanity inconvenienced him. “You cannot keep her warm?” A wicked smile curved Shiro’s lips. “Not with clothes on.”

“Izanami chose her targets wisely,” Yumei said from ahead of them as they entered another cave. The rocky ground had grown rougher, sloping downward. Grave markers no longer interrupted the natural stone caverns. “She eliminated Inari first,” he continued. “He connected the other three Kunitsukami and maintained a loose acquaintanceship with the Amatsukami. Without him, the lines of communication were broken. Had any of the others disappeared first, he would have noticed. “She captured Susano next. As a known recluse, he was unlikely to be missed for some time, reducing the chances that Sarutahiko or Uzume would grow suspicious.” “And then she went after Sarutahiko and Uzume,” Emi murmured. “She had to deal with them at the same time because neither of them would fail to notice if something happened to the other.”

“Are you ready to die?” “No,” she whispered. “Then rise and take up your sword.” He stretched his arm up and pressed his palm against the top of the barrier, his finger spread wide. “Until you are dead, the battle is not over.”

She’d woken late in the evening to find she’d slept obliviously in the same room as four exceedingly powerful yokai who did not get along.

A thousand-year-old Prince of Shadows and an immortal Kunitsukami of the Storm weren’t going to listen to a human girl telling them they were acting like children.

“Izanagi and I have always had each other, as have you and Tsukiyomi. Sarutahiko and Uzume found each other long, long ago, but for millennia and more, Inari has been alone. Not even the minds of Kunitsukami are immune to the strain of such endless solitude.”

“What does it mean to be a Kunitsukami?” she repeated. When he answered, the single word rang with cutting finality. “Alone.”

“When Yumei first told me you had no memories,” Susano continued, “I did not believe him. How could such a fate befall one of us? But I can see it is more than true, and I can see the damage runs deep. You are broken, Inari. I did not think a Kunitsukami could break, but you have. And I do not know if your memories will be enough to make you whole again.”

As he leaned down, his hands tilted her face up, forcing her eyes to meet his. “You can’t die now, Emi. I need you with me.”

“You are more than a body, Emi. You are more than a vessel for someone else’s will and power.” “But I’m the kamigakari.” She shifted her weight, resisting the urge to look away. “It’s my duty—” “To die? To put my life ahead of your own?” His jaw flexed. “Amaterasu may be willing to let you die for her, but I’m not. Don’t you dare choose my survival over yours again.”

“What were you afraid of, Emi?” She turned her back to him and rested one hand against the pillar. “I didn’t want to remove the onenju because … because I was afraid of what it would do to you.” She swallowed hard. “I was afraid that when your memories returned, you would turn into Inari and …” She hunched her shoulders and forced the words out, barely managing a whisper. “And Inari wouldn’t have any reason to care about a human girl like me.”

“I don’t know how I’ll feel about anything when my memories return.” His arms tightened around her. “But I know I fear losing you more than anything that might befall me.”

Maybe it would be better if, when his memories returned, he stopped caring about her. Inari wouldn’t fear a weak mortal girl’s inevitable death. Inari wouldn’t mourn her. Inari wouldn’t care. Inari wouldn’t love her. But Shiro did.

She had given up everything for duty, even her life. But this … this she couldn’t sacrifice, not even to save the world. With his arms around her, his mouth on hers, his warmth and strength surrounding her, she knew she wasn’t strong enough to walk away from him. No matter the consequences.